My Eyes May Be Psy­chotic, But I’m Not

I joined the National Coali­tion for Sex­ual Free­dom today.

I have been told on sev­eral occa­sions that my eyes get all dark and psy­chotic when I get in your face and make you gasp and scream in pain. And should tears well in your eyes, my eyes are right there look­ing straight into your soul.

That is me. That’s what I do. That’s how I express affec­tion and that’s how I revel in the incred­i­ble beauty that your emo­tions are to me.

The dark­ness in my eyes is not of mal­ice; it is rooted in an almost des­per­ate long­ing to wrap your soul around me and to dive into your heart and never emerge. There is noth­ing more beau­ti­ful to me than when you release every thought in your head and crum­ble to the floor and cry for me.

At those moments I am filled with an immense grat­i­tude for being exactly what I am.

I am a sadist.

But no mat­ter how psy­chotic my eyes become when your emo­tions blos­som in my grip and spread your wings, I am not. There is noth­ing wrong with me. In fact, there is some­thing right with me.

I see beauty and poetry every­where and even though you will ache for days and some­times for weeks after I make love to you, it does not impede my life or my social inter­ac­tions and it does not make me a less pro­duc­tive mem­ber of society.

Admit­ting to myself and to the world what I am was not the down­fall of me. It was me finally claim­ing my birthright to sim­ply be me.

I am a sadist and I’m not fucked up because of it. I was fucked up before, when I donned social masks and shut down my emo­tions to shoe­horn myself into what I thought was the proper and moral way to exist.

And still, in today’s soci­ety, the DSM-​TR-​IV is used to “diag­nose” and pathol­o­gize peo­ple who have found them­selves and truth and love and trust and inti­macy in BDSM. Read about the effort to remove con­sen­sual adult sex­ual expres­sion as a psy­cho­log­i­cal dis­or­der from the next revi­sion of DSM: Kinky is NOT a Diag­no­sis.

Come join me at the NCSF.