I started off in the faux fight scene genre. It was a blast being a kickass, no mercy lady of the fighting night. Most of my scenarios were scripted, loosely, to include a goodie-basket of fetish, smack talk, wrestling, punching, kicking, and shoe-grinding, a plethora of female domination. I was so intrigued why anyone would pay $$ to see a woman dominate and kick a man’s butt, it led me into the world of private sessions, where I could engage with as many scenarios and playmates as my heart desired.
Being that I am 6′, curvy, playful, and mentally one of the boys, this sparked the mantra, “My fetish is fetishes.”
The psychology of why a person likes what they like, when they begin to like it, and how it becomes an undercurrent of their “vanilla” life, revolves around Story. This story provides an outlet for those who did not wish harm upon others but have no way of expressing their pent-up emotions in a satisfying way. It is the underbelly of our various cultures, popping up in movies, music, advertisements, novels, self-help workshops, and is often the black sheep of psychological investigation. To understand it fully is to look at concepts that make us the most uncomfortable: pain, pleasure, desire, compulsion, and my personal favorite, power.
Don’t get me wrong. I started off with every misconception in the book:
And perhaps the most deep-seeded, insidious misconception of all:
It’s a bloody wonder we’re not climbing the walls and throwing poop.
The thing is, I was given those ideas. They didn’t come from me or my experiences. After all, when you’re five years old and playing tag with the neighbor kids, it’s super rare for those concepts to exist anywhere other than in the adults doing their best to protect you from harm, real or imagined. As children, we PLAY, modeling our behaviors on those around us. We dive into modalities of strength, weakness, laughter, sadness, conquest, mystery, and homecoming. This isn’t right, wrong, bad, good, ugly, or beautiful. It just is. Yet we attach so much emotional energy into these ideas, and when they fail, we believe there is something very wrong with us.
For whatever reason, I have always questioned what is perceived to be real. When the opportunity came for me to play at different traits and archetypes far from my set point of beliefs, I took it. I tried everything. When I met with playmates, I had to know their story. It was vital to me. They were asking me to play a character, and since I’m a bit of a perfectionist, I had to know what that character did to them in the fantasy, what she wore, how she talked, key phrases she’d use, and her motive for using them. Then I could embrace the character and make it my own.
Low and behold, after thousands of stories over a ten-year stretch, the similarities were evident, startling, THRILLING. How can a 32-year-old male from Buffalo, NY have the same fantasy as a 48-year-old male from Dublin?! They have different races, religions, backgrounds, parents, societies, and memories. They are completely different people… except maybe they’re not.
Most could recount inciting incidents from childhood, moments that stood out to them so vibrantly, they were unforgettable. Experiencing feelings both alarming and unknown, the details imprinted themselves into the fabric of their erotic lives. Those who could pinpoint the moment of awakening would say, “For as long as I can remember, I’ve always liked…”
Why is any of this important? It’s filler, right? A distraction. For a lot of people, it’s sinful, wrong, compulsory, and such thoughts should not reach the light of day. I say FOOEY. Ignorance is not bliss. In fact, those that know the least about themselves tend to suffer the most. The shame, guilt, regret and fear living in the heart of our desires is an old, outdated, and frankly criminal, programming passed on from previous generations who had a much different reality than the one we live in today. Suffice it to say, with the blending of religion, science, and today’s laborers gravitating toward city life, the mind and psyche are striving for balance, equilibrium, and a fulfillment of all things primal. More on that later.
What happens when desires, fantasies, and dreams are denied, shunned, and left to rot in The-Back-40 of our minds? Nothing good. Say you’re sailing along. You’ve done what you’ve been told will bring you happiness. You work hard, you find a mate to love, perhaps pop out a couple tots, adopt a dog, and install an electric fence. You have a house to maintain, a standard of living. You’re busy striving for the American Dream… but then you hit a wall. It’s not a tangible wall, but nevertheless, it feels like a mountain of dissatisfaction is turning into a landslide. You have collected things, people, and ideas that ensure an insular existence in the tribe to which you’d most like to belong. But you ain’t happy. In fact, you’re downright miserable, and you don’t know why. Enter stage right, DRAMA. Drama you’ve created because those wants and needs are getting mighty tired of being ignored. You wild out. This looks like depression, affairs, hoarding, binging, addiction, you name it, and it can be a filler for the emptiness that has plagued humans since time began. The drama is your psyche’s way of saying, “Wake up, stupid! This body’s not going to live forever so you best make every attempt at knowing what you want, why you want it, and how to get it.”
Is this necessary? Maybe. I don’t know. Some habits are so deeply ingrained, it takes a massive shift to start chipping off the hardened layers of image and ego, pride and righteousness, to let the true self get a gasping breath of freedom.
Is there any silver lining to this? Please let there be good news! Yes, there’s good news. As helpful as books, workshops, seminars, medications, church gatherings, confessions, hobbies, exercise, and therapists can be when it’s time to sift through the rubble, no one can know your innermost passions unless they’ve walked a mile in your shoes. They can commiserate, advise, and listen, but they can’t unlock your greatness. And you already have the tools and capacity. Drumroll, please…
Everything you need to know about yourself, you have already been given in the form of symbols, feelings, settings, and stories. You guessed it. It’s your fantasies.
What is the American Dream? Scratch the American. We can no longer insulate ourselves in this age of information. What is THE dream, YOUR dream? It is often wondrous, terrible, scary, blissful, and joyous bits that at first may not make sense to you. You may feel ashamed or disgusted by some of the things you like. This is normal and one of the reasons we don’t openly talk about something that is given so little importance. Why would a commercialized society wish to stop selling to the lost, lonely, emotionally deprived, and heart-heavy by suggesting they are NOT broken? We need a million services to feel complete. It’s not possible to embrace the message of our deepest darkest shadows without creating and recreating an endless cycle of damage. Right?
Can we please try selling empowerment as a viable, tribal tool that requires action, accountability, compassion, and the willingness to be vulnerable?
Yes, we f***ing can. Hence, Dear Sweet & Low! Because if I listened to one more dude say, “I thought I was the only one that liked this” or “I could never share this with my partner,” I was going to start breaking things.
I’m not a doctor. I hold no degrees in psychology, sociology, or anything other than Trial-by-oh-SHIT-I’m-on-Fire. I have a real issue with people preaching to me from the viewpoint of second-hand knowledge. In my experience, it’s usually coming from a place of projection. I hear, “Do as I say, not as I do, because I haven’t mastered my own darkness, and I’m terrified of it! You must be as scared as I am, so let’s be scared together.”
Hmm, no. Not gonna work for me. If I talk about dark places, if I seem delusional and crazy and strangely passionate about subjects that historically mean the death of all that is good, it’s because I’ve been there. I keep going there, and this belief is mine.
Pain is necessary, but suffering is optional. We were not meant to suffer alone. We were meant to play.
I don’t like being wrong, but I don’t need to be right. This platform is meant to spark a different kind of conversation about sexuality through fantasies and play. It’s an on-going practice of non-judgment, working through obstacles, and most of all, bringing the fun back into LIFE. It will be graphic, funny, sometimes offensive, but I promise to show up open, authentic, and then take it from there.
Enough of that. Welcome to Dear Sweet & Low. I’m so humbled and happy to meet you. Let’s learn to live the Art of Play.