Sometimes There's Pain in Play

Oh geez, so where do I begin. :)

I guess I'll start with last Friday, July 10th. I took the day off from work, 1. because I needed a day off from work, and 2. so that I could prepare for the upcoming camping trip that weekend. I had the whole day to myself, but someone (who shall remain nameless! lol) texted me at 7 that morning... and I couldn't go back to sleep. That's alright because I decided that having gotten paid and not having any particular obligations, that that would be a perfect day to do things for myself. I started by driving to the Prince William County circuit courthouse and beginning the paperwork process for my legal name change. Yay! Yes, my first and middle name will legally be James Ethan (of course, I still go by Ethan) in only a few weeks. After that I got my sister and we saw Bruno on it's opening day. Not as fabulous as it could have been (I guess that's what happens when straight men play gay guys...) but it was entertaining... (in that hopelessly mindless, highly sexual sort of way.) I guess the only disappointment is, with that much money, intelligence, and talent at his disposal, Sacha Baron Cohen should be winning Academy Awards... not making shit like Borat and Bruno. Oh well. After the movies I donated blood (for the first time in five years I wasn't turned away for being too anemic. Yay!) dropped my sister back home, got a haircut (which made me look so suddenly, surprisingly male that I actually shocked myself when I looked in the mirror! Bonus points!) Then more errands, picked up Richael at the metro, even more errands, and finally sleep somewhere around 11.

Now, here's where it gets exciting. After the 5 1/2 hour drive to BF, West Virginia (yes, the drive was exactly twice as long as I had been mentally preparing for...) we arrived at the camp in time for lunch. I actually won't mention the name of the campout retreat in this blog, but let's just say that I (I can't speak for my travel partner!) was WAY out of my league. First of all, clothing was optional... and most people opted for naked, or at least topless. Next, most of the people attending were trans (of course, not so uncomfortable to me) and I can admit now that I actually felt kind of disturbed by the paradoxically male faces and voices and the very large, feminine breasts the bodies tended to boast. I'll return to this in a second. So, we're in the middle of the woods and I'm sure I put on enough bug spread to cause short-term memory loss in the people around me (much less, the insects and small animals.) We brought with us (or so one of the camp organizers accused us!) rain storms that would last the afternoon and into the night. And the night, once we had exhausted ourselves from the drive, the workshops, the campfire sharing, and just the generally long day, was accutely interrupted throughout by the very loud shouts of various people achieving orgasms in the surrounding tents. (In fact, I woke up Sunday morning after very little actual sleep, fighting a scowl, and told Richael that I was likely to kill something if I heard one more orgasm!!!)

There are actually two things I want to talk about regarding the camp experience: the first is the nature of the campout, BDSM. Bondage and Discipline, Sado-Masochism is a community, mostly within the queer community (I think!) that defines the relationship between two (or more!) sexual partners. "Pain," is a big word, as is, "Play." Pain is usually inflicted, consentually, by the top (the dominate partner) on the bottom (the submissive, receiving one.) It can take the form of suspension, flogging, using needles or other sharp instruments, etc. (I'm not the creative or knowledgeable...yet!) Play generally refers to the scenario the two partners have created in which to play their roles. Think of the "bad student who must be punished," or the "mutinous sailor who has just been adjudicated," or something like that. A lot of planning goes into each play date in which the partners decide on their roles, how far to take it, safe words (which the receiving partner is in too much pain or at risk of serious injury), how to take care of the bottom afterward, etc. I gathered most of this information just in conversation and in the two workshops we attended the 24 hours we were there. I still have billions of questions... there's a time and a place in which they'll be answered, I'm sure. The most fascinating part of the 'pain' experience is that it was something I could identify with! I stayed very conservatively dressed (well, t-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops) the entire time, I abstained from any sexual activities or drinking alcohol, but I admit that I was immensely curious about the ways in which pain could be inflicted on me with my consent. At one of the workshops, we discussed what drives us to seek pain... the mediator offered, from hir own readings, that pain inflicted in the top half of the body was much more emotional based, stemmin from love, belongingness, etc., while pain inflicted in the lower half was more sexually stimulating. Maybe it has to do with chakras. Anyway, the point of pain, some said, was to replace a different kind of pain (translate emotional pain into physical one,) to have an erotic experience, or to get that adrenaline/endorphin rush. Maybe it's not so shocking, but I'm dying to learn more about the pain and pleasure bit.

The last part I wanted to talk about was the impact the physical presence the other campers had on me. I feel kind of guilty expressing my feelings, but wise people read this blog and always have good input. I felt extremely comfortable probably being the ONLY virgin there. Having not had any sexual experience of any kind (okay, I'll be fair, having never had intercourse... Richael, did I answer your question?) I felt really childish. Then there was the 'boob issue.' I told Richael that it occurred to me: if I had given a million dollars to the other campers, and they were in perfect health, many of them would still not have surgery to remove their breasts. (Some would, but I have a feeling that a lot wouldn't.) That confuses me a lot because I am struggling to understand the male identification in still, largely, female bodies. For me, I HAD to have top surgery, or risk going absolutely insane. the dysphoria just grew in me exponentially... and I guess I just can't relate to the peace of mind that some people have about their bodies. Essentially, their comfort with their bodies (displayed by the fact that their bodies were still visibly quite female, or that even if they were overweight they were displaying it proudly) made me extremely uncomfortable about my own body, and guilty about my discomfort. It seemed like the more naked they were, the more I wanted to cover up. I wish I could have stayed and learned more about the event and the people, but I don't think, psychologically, I could have lasted another hour. :( I felt uncomfortable about the sexual openness of everyone, that their sexuality was on display (physically, among other ways) where I couldn't even imagine sitting closer than 6 inches to someone I was genuinely interested in talking to. Maybe the worst part of the camp wasn't the long drive or lack of sleep, but how I couldn't convince myself to feel included and once I'd discovered my insecurities, I realized that I had only scratched the surface and had no idea how to constructively deal with them.

I realized I kind of ranted in this blog... maybe it was just more important to get out what I wanted to say than to actually say anything. Everything's a learning experience. But honestly, I can't wait to go to the campout next year because yes, in spite of all my discomfort, I'll be going back for a longer stay next time.