Sex Blogging and fetchat and NaNoWriMo, Oh My.

Hello, My Beauties. Sex blogging and fetchat and novels, oh my. So, it’s not as catchy as “lions and tigers, and bears.” What can you do? I’m sure I should be NaNoWriMo’ing, but I have thoughts and news. My word count for the day will have to wait (a little more on that project later).

Let’s start with the big news.

Sex Blogging

For the past six years, Kinkly has been taking time out to recognize sex bloggers with a list of Sex Blogging Superheroes. The Top 100 Sex Blogging Superheroes of 2019 was posted this morning. Guess what? This blog made it onto the list. And I received mentions in the New Sex Blog, LGBTQ, and Erotica categories. *Insert a loud SQUEE and joyful dancing here.*

To say I’m excited is an understatement.

Here’s the thing, the other folks on this list? Bloggers like Tabitha Rayne (@TabithaErotica), Jayne Renault (@jayne_renault), and Mollena Williams Haas (@mollena)? Argh! I respect and look up to these people. Being included on this list is an honor (picking a few to mention was next to impossible, so please just go check out all the fantastic bloggers). Thank you, Kinkly!

Onward & kink-ward.

Fetchat (@Fet_Chat) returns Wednesday, after a week of techno-chaos. This Wednesday, November 6th at 5 pm, we’ll be talking with #fetchat co-host and artistic Goddess Nikki of (@loveisafetish) about erotic photography. She’s been on a year-long photographic journey. Her work is beautiful, raw, and deeply personal. Watching her use the medium of photography to express her inner life has been a tremendous gift. 

#Fetchat is a weekly Twitter Chat I co-host with Nikki (she/her)from (@loveisafetish on Twitter). Explore the kink/fetish landscape with us and learn about folks making a difference in the BDSM community. Join us every Wednesday at 5 pm, EST by either searching “fetchat” on Twitter or hanging out on the @Fet_Chat feed. 

I have big feelings about the intersection of body positivity and sex.

Learning to live in my skin with comfort has been (and continues to be) a lifelong process for me. The first time I had consensual sex, my partner didn’t so much as glance at my body. I could’ve been sporting tentacles for all they cared. 

It reinforced all the hurtful messages I’d learned about myself. Of course, we were both 13-ish, and it was 1983. Expecting anything past “I got to stick it in her” was beyond optimistic. I didn’t even know there was anything else I should be expecting.

By 15 I’d learned the hide-your-ass-post-sex shuffle.

I hated the idea that someone was looking at me without me looking back at them. Sure, I talked a great game, wearing my sexual expression and sexuality like a shield.

A few months ago, I was in Portland and got to have dinner with some folks from high school. We were discussing the aura of sex I’d projected when I was a teenager. One of them told a story about how I’d mentioned my hips being stiff one morning. When she asked if I’d hurt myself, I’d shrugged and said: “Nah, it’s from all the fucking.” 

On the one hand, go 16-year-old me for claiming my power.

But that statement was hiding a whole mess of insecurity. By that point in my life, I’d figured out that if you fake ferociousness on the surface, people take it for granted that it’s your truth all the way down to your toes.

In my 20s I went to clubs in bras and hotpants, danced topless in cages (sometimes for money, other times because it’s just fun), and worked as a sugar-baby to supplement my income. FYI, if you’re sitting there attempting to infer that sex work was harmful to me, please let me be clear: the men and women I saw were respectful, kind, and one or two were friends. These were honest working relationships.

Here’s a gentle reminder that sex work is work and if you want to support sex workers, check out this post of some organizations to help get you pointed in the right direction.

It’s just that, to everyone outside my head, I looked like I was incredibly confident. But I wasn’t. Get me alone, just me, no one else, and I couldn’t even masturbate without a blanket covering me.

What does this have to do with erotic photography?

Erotic Self Portrait

Learning to look at my body with a kinder gaze has helped me claim my own sexual needs. Seeing myself as a whole body, not just the parts I’m unhappy with at the moment, is powerful. 

I’m more confident being naked (no more trying to hide my butt when I walk to the bathroom after sex). I love stripping down to my curves and experimenting with positions, toys, my hands, and my voice, whether I’m alone or with my honey.

Finally, let’s talk about NaNoWriMo 2019.

[Two Young Men, One Embracing the Other]
See below for image credit

This month is going to look a little different because I’m focusing on finishing my labor of love – a historical novel set in the 19th century. The working title is A Token Among Comrades, which is a nod to Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman, an iconic queer poet, and spectacular bearded-daddy. 

This project was born 3 1/2 years ago, and now, I’m in the home stretch to finish the first draft. I’ve been a stickler about historical accuracy. I want to make sure I’m representing what my queer character, a young gay man named Kendrick Harrington, experiences in his journey from grief to joy. 

The novel is about how grief and love happen regardless of whether the language for those things exists. Being queer (pansexual), I’m continually amazed at how folks who hate our community try to capitalize on the idea that being queer is somehow a modern invention.

You’d think there wasn’t one single LGBTQ+ person before the Stonewall Riots in 1969. 

But that’s not true. We’ve been integral parts of our respective communities from the beginning of history. We live, love, and thrive even in places where our LGBTQIA+ family is hunted, imprisoned, and killed. I wanted to tell the story of a life lived because every one of us who has lived is a thread in the collective tapestry that is the LGTBQIA+ community. 

Be well, be wonderful, and above all, be you. 


Image Credit: Unknown [Two Young Men, One Embracing the Other], 1870s–80s Tintype; Image: 8.4 x 6 cm (3 5/16 x 2 3/8 in.) The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Bequest of Herbert Mitchell, 2008 (2015.400.163),

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