a fragment of memory

[pantryslut]

It's not quite true to say that this weekend was piggy's initiation into the scene, but whatever it was, it was momentous and moving and I am very honored to have been a part of it.

And it reminded me of something.

I was still living in Michigan when I came out as a leather person. I'm of that generation that first found kink via the Net, alt.sex.bondage to be specific. I didn't find anyone to play with for several years besides my partners (all three of them), and only one of them -- imnotandrei -- was really kinky as opposed to merely playful and humoring me.

There was a very, very underground leatherdyke community in Lansing. I know this because I later met one of my old friends at the end of a long leash at the March on Washington a few years later. But it was so underground that I never found it, except for one old political dyke who figured she'd done so much work for the community there wasn't any point in staying closeted anymore, and delightfully shared with me -- verbally only, alas -- her penchant for spanking. She also invited cabaret performer and old-school bulldagger Lynn Lavner to perform at the university, and boy did I have a grand old time talking with her after the show.

But.

The Net had by this time spawned some public kink gatherings, what we now call munches. I don't remember if there was one going in Ann Arbor at this time or not; if not, it was soon to begin. I think there were also some small playparties going on too, but my memory is hazy at this point.

I made contact with some folks in Ann Arbor via a.s.b. Specifically, there was a couple, a man and a woman, who gave me their phone number and offered to be my long-distance mentors, or at least to talk to me about kink and the scene and whatever I wanted to know.

So I did. I called them about once a week for a couple months over the summer. I didn't drive, so I never got down to Ann Arbor to meet them. And by now, I cannot remember their names. I think they were heterosexual (possibly bi), but played pansexually; I do know they were very friendly to little bi-girl me, and also very casual and not very concerned with protocol or formality, which was a blessing.

I got into a huge fight with my girlfriend one night after these phone calls -- she'd wanted to call her mother and I was "hogging the phone," so she left the apartment without telling me (to use a payphone) and stayed gone for the next eight hours or so. We never really recovered from that moment, I think.

Really, this couple was very sweet to me. I was somebody they'd never met, and never would meet in fact. I was just some young kid stuck out in East Lansing, thinking dirty thoughts and writing perverted poetry for her final class project. (One of those poems was published in The Second Coming, if you're curious. Another appeared in an old issue of Black Sheets.) I wish I could remember their names, or even one word that they said to me. But I can't. Just being there for me, though, at that age and that stage in my coming out, was so valuable and so important, more important than any specific thing they said. It meant I was isolated, but not alone.

Comments

[adrian-turtle.livejournal.com]

Awww....thanks for reminding me of this time, those years, that stage of life. I'm glad that couple was there for you. You've just reminded me of a woman who was similarly there for me about ten years ago. (She was non-famous, and endlessly patient with my whining and doubts, and she convinced me to go to my first playparty. Where I met the gentleman who is going to be here in 11 days. What a long strange trip it's been.)