Returning from Black Beat
I just got back from Black Beat which is a BDSM event founded by kinky African-Americans, for kinky black people, their friends and allies.
It was hands down the best BDSM event I have ever been to. The attendees were both knowledgeable and refreshingly free of negative attitude. People were also really friendly. Right after I arrived, I stumbled to the restaurant to get myself lunch. One of the attendees waved me over, and asked me to share a table with himself and his submissive. His comment was it's supposed to be a BDSM family reunion, and I shouldn't have to sit alone (unelss I wanted to of course).
That moment of kindness set the tone for the event for me. People were incredibly welcoming, warm and giving. I felt overwhelemed at times at how close I felt to people I had just met.
I went to a workshop taught by Lady D on how to end a BDSM relationship amicably. I ran into Lady D in the elevator, and offered to get some coffee for her caffeine deprived self. Afterwards I found out she was leading the workshop I was most intersted in. Lady D is a trained hypnotherapist, and recently ended a 10 yr relationship with her slave. She ended the relationship not because she didn't love her slave, but because their relationship had stagnated. She talked openly and honestly about feeling like a lost puppy after her slave had gone, and how intensely she missed her.
One thing that Lady D said which really moved me was that mourning the end of a BDSM relationship is like mourning a death, except that you'll see the person you've lost next month at a play party licking someone else's boots. When someone is dead, they're gone, but given how tiny the scene can be there is no way to avoid having something you're mourning the loss of in your face.
When the class was over, she gave me a warm hug. She hoped that getting a dominant's perspective would help me, and I think it did. She also gave me her card and said that if I need an ear, she is there. I almost started bawling.
Almost crying was a theme for me at Black Beat. It was good cathartic crying, but also meant I spent half my time fleeing to my hotel room to decompress.
It was hands down the best BDSM event I have ever been to. The attendees were both knowledgeable and refreshingly free of negative attitude. People were also really friendly. Right after I arrived, I stumbled to the restaurant to get myself lunch. One of the attendees waved me over, and asked me to share a table with himself and his submissive. His comment was it's supposed to be a BDSM family reunion, and I shouldn't have to sit alone (unelss I wanted to of course).
That moment of kindness set the tone for the event for me. People were incredibly welcoming, warm and giving. I felt overwhelemed at times at how close I felt to people I had just met.
I went to a workshop taught by Lady D on how to end a BDSM relationship amicably. I ran into Lady D in the elevator, and offered to get some coffee for her caffeine deprived self. Afterwards I found out she was leading the workshop I was most intersted in. Lady D is a trained hypnotherapist, and recently ended a 10 yr relationship with her slave. She ended the relationship not because she didn't love her slave, but because their relationship had stagnated. She talked openly and honestly about feeling like a lost puppy after her slave had gone, and how intensely she missed her.
One thing that Lady D said which really moved me was that mourning the end of a BDSM relationship is like mourning a death, except that you'll see the person you've lost next month at a play party licking someone else's boots. When someone is dead, they're gone, but given how tiny the scene can be there is no way to avoid having something you're mourning the loss of in your face.
When the class was over, she gave me a warm hug. She hoped that getting a dominant's perspective would help me, and I think it did. She also gave me her card and said that if I need an ear, she is there. I almost started bawling.
Almost crying was a theme for me at Black Beat. It was good cathartic crying, but also meant I spent half my time fleeing to my hotel room to decompress.