BDSM—Bondage and Domination/Discipline and Submission/Sadism and Masochism—has gotten a serious PR boost these days, with ladies getting all tingly down there over 50 Shades of Gray.
But BDSM is much more than a naughty pastime for the socially inept or sociopathic (seriously, don’t even get me started on all that is wrong with 50 Shades). Whether you’re just watching some porn or enacting scenes yourself, those of us who love to get kinky are often doing serious identity exploration.
The transgressive nature of BDSM opens the door to exploring the diversity and fluidity of identity outside of social constraints. This freedom often brings out the kinky contradictions within—this is where you get that powerful man who loves to get choked or that twiggy housewife who’ll paddle your ass into next week.
Role-play, the root of BDSM, demands a self-reflective look at one’s conception of identity and society. As a sexuality based on power dynamics, BDSM often forces people to examine their own privilege in considering which hierarchies they are willing to play with—gender, age, class, race, etc.
Robin Bauer points out in “Transgressive and Transformative Gendered Sexual Practices and White Privileges,” that play is not merely lighthearted fun, but a serious exploration of social structures through sex.
As Margot Weiss explains in “Working at Play,” “Play here is a transformative, active process of engaging with the world and re-imagining, tweaking or recreating it. Play is recreational (something pleasant, not work) as well as re-creational (productive of new worlds or relations).”
Indeed, the very power of “play” comes from its innocent name—as “just play,” it offers practitioners the freedom to explore taboo topics without sanction (Weiss). This means the freedom to explore partial and transgressive identities, as well.
Role-play is often depicted as dangerous and despicable, especially in the realms of age and race play, delicate topics which often offend people’s sensibilities.
However, a practitioner of age play and mother of two kids insists that there is a difference between play and life—a consenting adult pretending to be a child is different from her own children, and she would never blur those lines (Weiss). BDSM, she claims, demands a certain separation, a detachment which further hints at the fluidity and performance of any and all identities.
BDSM, especially in the queer community, offers a safe place for practitioners to explore and subvert gender identity. One can be a ‘man’ or ‘woman’ independently of what one identifies as in ‘real’ life. In performing gender, BDSM practitioners can discover the role that fits them best, rather than conforming to what dominant society insists upon.
As a lesbian dominant practitioner points out in Weiss’ article, “‘If I had a choice between being shipwrecked on a desert island with a vanilla lesbian or a hot male masochist, I’d pick the boy.’” Favoring her BDSM identity, she does not lean toward her gender preference in this example. Thus, sexual identity can be defined in many ways—and as this practitioner reveals, the gay/straight label can be constricting and disingenuous.
Bauer notes that queer people may be exceptionally attracted to BDSM because, unlike in everyday society, “one can consciously choose and negotiate roles for play.” For example, one practitioner pointed out the renaming of sex organs in the queering of language via BDSM—terms such as “boy cunt” in referring to the penis of a ‘bottom’ or “dick” in referring to a strap-on dildo (Weiss).
Often, such gender-based play can empower practitioners and thus become a “transformative act” that applies to the person’s everyday life. In fact, the majority of queer people practicing BDSM expressed it as “a tool for personal growth and healing” (Bauer). Exploring gender within their sex lives often leads to a more confident queer identity in ‘real’ life.
In 2007, Reverend Gary Aldridge was found asphyxiated in his home, hogtied and wearing two rubber suits. Notorious sex columnist Tristan Taorminow wonders whether Aldridge performed BDSM alone because he was too ashamed to admit his fetish to a partner.
“If he could have found someone else to share his kink with, he might still be alive,” he writes in his article “Bound for Bliss.”
BDSM should be accepted as not just a freaky fetish, but rather a healthy route to identity exploration. Self-inflicted bounds can truly be freeing.