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The Beginning of the End of the Six County State

4 Mar

So here we are. For the first time ever Northern Ireland’s government isn’t unionist dominated. Unionism has repeatedly failed its ‘people’, focusing too often on single topics rather than wider issues. It isn’t enough to just want to be part of the UK, you need to do more than lip service – rim jobbing the conservatives in London isn’t being particularly British, but it is what unionism seems to have become. When you’re out of thinking with the rest of the country you so badly want to remain part of on issues like women’s rights, marriage equality, and anything to do with the LGBT community, eventually the voters will desert you.

35% of those eligible still didn’t vote this time round, and their apathy is in part because of the failure of politicians to be forward thinking or responsive. Sinn Féin have succeeded by refreshing the optics, preaching equality (though as I wrote on Friday, I’m concerned about how that will play out for non-republicans once they’re in ‘control’ ) and motivating their populous. Unionism sits on past glories, complacently assuming that the public will come out and vote for them.

Parliament Buildings, Stormont, 2009.

Parliament Buildings, Stormont, 2009. Image © 2017 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

They now have three weeks to reach an agreement for power sharing. SF have already said they won’t accept Arlene Foster until the investigation into the heating cock up is complete. Arlene refuses to budge. With no agreement then we’d face yet another election or go back to direct rule from Westminster. The latter won’t please republicans, and would surely motivate a return to violent protest and terrorist manoeuvres from the likes of the IRA. But with our assembly now no longer Unionist-controlled I expect the DUP to force through a situation where direct rule is enforced, breaking any progress from the peace process. The DUP is like Nero fiddling while the country burns, willing to fuck everyone and blame the fall out on anyone but themselves. It’s not enough to be linked to the £1/2 billion wasted  through the RHI scheme, the fortunes wasted in court battles over gay blood etc, why not waste yet more in a pointless series of elections until everyone snuffs it or simply grows bored of the whole damn thing.  I could be wrong, but then power balance is shifting and the Unionists know this. The DUP in all probability would rather collapse Stormont than allow a nationalist rule.

Thanks to Brexit  I suspect within ten,  if not five years,  we will have a vote in favour of a united Ireland. And with that a return to civil unrest from small vocal factions. But none of this should surprise. Northern Ireland will simply be following the examples of the other colonies in the former British Empire, redefining itself as a nation shaped and influenced by the British presence but with its own culture. We just aren’t economically strong enough to stand without help from outside.

What would it be like for a Northern Irish Brit in a united Ireland?

I suspect odd. Its hard to imagine that the territorial imagery would disappear, but one suspects there’d be a lot more tricolours flying and that would probably rankle hardliners. None of my protestant friends in the south of Ireland ever seem particularly bothered, and I don’t even recall any of them of British descent complaining about being on the end of prejudicial treatment, and that’s exactly how it should be when reunification finally happens. Defining one’s nationality is a complex business, and most of us have at least one strand of ancestry that is imported from outside the island. Self-identifying as Irish or British shouldn’t stop you living a normal life in either country, or being allowed to display paraphernalia that relates to your nationality. There’s no reason why the Orange Order couldn’t continue to march and celebrate its past (they already do in displays across the Irish republic, which are closer to peaceful pageantry than anything in the North). And finally we could all celebrate St Patrick’s day as a shared heritage.

But I think British residents will be scared, paranoid, and anxious, and likely to fall into antagonistic language and behaviour with little provocation. They know the perceptions of the past just as well as the republicans. Hopefully they won’t be intimidated out of areas or out of the island. In the past, the British might well have treated the native population appallingly, but one needs to remember that we are not responsible for our ancestor’s antics, only our own. Certainly the thought that I might be persona non grata simply because I carry a British passport is most uncomfortable. And I don’t wish to be ridiculed because of my heritage, any more than republicans wish to be for theirs.

Uncertainty breeds fear. Fear breeds anger. Anger breeds trouble. And that is the situation I foresee. This summer’s parade season could be a real melting pot of pent up anger.

Undoubtedly the change is now on us. And I find it hard to believe that things will swing the other way any time soon. We should all begin to prepare for the possible outcomes of an ideological swing and a new national identity. Border poll or not, I will remain Northern Irish – proudly aware of my mixed heritage and upbringing informed by bother British and Irish culture. And I only hope that whatever happens, we are able to retain that sense of identity as the very face of Europe alters.

Power is about to shift…

3 Mar

As I write this, 70 of the 90 seats in the Northern Ireland Assembly Election for 2017 have been announced. And it makes for an interesting glimpse into a changing country. Sinn Féin hold the largest number of seats with 24, and the SDLP have 9. The DUP have 18 and UUP 9. Taking Aliance out of the proceedings that gives a nationalists a five seat lead.

Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

Disappointingly the country appears to have shunned the opportunity to usher in a change in our country’s leadership – the embittered, stubborn, starkly green and orange parties Sinn Féin and Democratic Unionist Party are still on top. And its hard to see how anything is going to change while that remains the case. Northern Ireland is a shared country whether you like it or not. And the only way to move forward is through mediation and negotiation and compromise.

But then I’m a broadly liberal leftist long lapsed from a background of unionism, so its easy for me to say. I don’t hate my fellow citizens because of their religion or their politics or what language they wish to converse in or what way they define their national identity. But it matters to many others out there.

Without a change, I can’t help but wonder if the assembly will not just be brought down again? And if it does, then surely direct rule from Westminster is inevitable? And to do that would be foolhardy, because that will give many militant republicans the excuse they need to reactivate a campaign of violence against the perceived British threat in the country, and take us all back to pre-1997 times. Its not as if the leaders of the two biggest parties actually give a toss about the Northern Irish people anyway, and our democratic views. The DUP backed Brexit in spite of the majority of Northern Ireland voting to stay IN Europe, and Sinn Féin still refuse to sit in Westminster for ideological reasons, which means they aren’t actually helping to represent the people either. A right golden shower the lot of them.

And I’m sitting here thinking about something that I haven’t actually heard voiced yet. But what happens if Sinn Féin come away from this election as the largest political party in Northern Ireland? Ignoring their catalogue of cover-ups (notably with regards sex abuse cases) and their power-hungry control of republican ideology in Northern Ireland (there’s as many kinds of republicans as their are unionists), we’ve never had a republican party as the largest in NI. The balance has always (by design more often than democracy) lain in the hands of the unionist parties, and for decades the unionists and loyalists have been happy because they’ve benefitted in things like employment, funding, rights etc. The republican voice has been silenced (once upon a time, literally), oppressed, which in turn has only helped to stir up support.

Right now we’re at loggerheads, with both sides bashing each other where possible, positioning themselves as ‘us’ and ‘them’. They put down propositions made by the others because of the potential for small victories. They turn simple things into massive issues. They allow prejudice to dictate policy and propaganda does the rest.

Whats scares unionists is what will happen when the power finally switches. It seems rather improbable that a republican dominated political arena is going to sit back and allow loyalism to continue its triumphant marches and shouting and brow-busting. That call for a referendum on a united Ireland can’t be far away now, and that scares the unionists because it might actually go through. Most of us don’t want to leave the EU, and joining up with Ireland is a sure way to ensure we don’t. Britain doesn’t actually care about Northern Ireland. We’re a population of 1.8million out of some 64 million across the islands. We’re a massive drain on resources, particularly bearing in mind our habit of fighting on a regular basis, incurring vast policing costs etc, every time we have a “celebration”. Will the republican brothers and sisters treat the unionists with open arms, and remind them that Ireland has already embraced Protestant culture as symbolised in the orange on the Tricolour? Sadly, probably not. Instead, the sort of hostility that has been shown to many of them is likely to be returned. Its the way of the wild. Captive turns captor. Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you, not actually how you were treated…

I’m slightly scared for people like me. Those of us who sit somewhere between the ideologies. Not necessarily undecided, but who are aware of our backgrounds, and the complex web that we were born into without say. Northern Ireland is occupied – the politicians decided to remain as part of the UK, not the people themselves, and so a border poll would be interesting, to finally give all of us a say. We aren’t all going to get our way though, and as Brexit has most recently reminded us (and indeed the US elections), when voting is split, things can get nasty. I don’t want to return to violence. I don’t want to be scared of visiting friends across sectarian divides, or to be picked out because I don’t see eye to eye with official lines of whatever persuasion.

Its time to stop being complacent. Time to learn to moderate, to co-operate, and to stop wallowing in the past. Think about the people.

You’re asking the wrong question 

8 Jan

You know how it is, you have to weigh up the possibile outcomes of a given scenario and determine the risk and whether it’s worth it. “What’s the worst that can happen? ” you utter. 

I do it myself. I open the argument with a negative possibility and instil a fear of bad things. If it’s something I care about there’s a good chance I won’t risk it. 

But we’re asking the wrong question – especially if the risk is big. Stop. Think. Now ask yourself this instead…

“What’s the best that could happen? ”

The worst might be pretty crap, but if the best is infinitely better then maybe that’s where we should be looking. A positive outlook and goals to aim for. A radical rethink and something to get excited about. I think I’ll take my chances on the best outcome… 

Who am I? (Part 1)

3 Dec

During the annual summer tensions in NI this year a relative asked me why I was so “against [my] own people.” That is, why so critical of the protestant/unionist population that I ostensibly hail from? The answer at its most basic is simply because I don’t feel that the so-called representatives and leaders of unionist, loyalist or protestant people actually do speak for me and my views. The more comprehensive response is probably based in a tortured sense of identity.

A statue of William III in Carrickfergus. Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

Symbol of protestant resistance in Northern Ireland – a statue of William III in Carrickfergus. Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

The exposure to ideology I had growing up was almost exclusively protestant/unionist. The rhetoric of ‘Ulster says No’ and ‘1, 2, 3, DUP’. Orange bands on 12th July. My father worked for Bill Henderson, the owner of the Belfast Newsletter and former Ulster Unionist politician. My grandfather’s shop in Derry had been firebombed by the IRA and left a lasting impression on the family. This was the world I knew.

But I was also removed from much of what went on. We lived at the foot of the Craigantlet hills during my formative years in a fairly isolated house. Trips into town weren’t overly frequent, and I only recall a couple of instances of evacuation owing to bomb scares. My bit of East Belfast wasn’t known for its tension.

Once the quiet lane behind our house was on the news as someone was shot in his car. I remember the police coming to the door asking questions, telling him we’d heard nothing then telling mum we’d heard all sorts of things. I’ve no idea if we actually heard the shooting or not.

By the 1990s we had moved into the Garnerville housing estate right beside the RUC training barracks. A mighty wall of green corrugated iron with cameras all round faced our living room. The sound of their band woke us many a Saturday morning. I took it all for granted that this was how things were.

Somebody else was shot in the alleys behind the new house. An internal loyalist affair.

I accepted security checks in shops – the queues outside Debenhams as bags were searched. I didn’t think twice about the presence of soldiers on the streets, or the fact that the police carried guns. They scared me, but I wasn’t a law breaker so I didn’t worry excessively.

At some point in my teenage years my attitude shifted. I questioned the assumed unionism I had been brought up in. I watched nightly news reports of tit-for-tat attacks between Catholics and Protestants and knew none of us were safe. If I was stopped in the street by thugs I was screwed either way. I couldn’t sing any tribal anthems. I felt unsafe watching the bonfires. I didn’t like the hatred of Catholics expressed by many.

My Christian development changed how I thought. I became wary as I devoured Jack Chick publications and attended a Brethren church. Both fountains of intolerance and hate. But I also had a Methodist minister at school. My BB and youth club was at a large pentecostal church. Our Scripture Union group at school was a real mix of backgrounds.

Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

I began working with a peace group – the Horizon Project. A cross-boarder, cross-community group aimed at bringing different young people together. I made friends for life here. I saw an alternative future. We were basically all the same. No thoughts of violence. Plenty of hormones.

I read Augustine. I refused to join the school’s Combined Cadet Force (CCF), a way of preparing school boys for the British military. Instead I ended up head of our Social Services unit, working with disabled kids, elderly folk and the like. I outed myself as a pacifist, a conscientious objector.

I am working class protestant by birth. As a child of the 80s we had the upper hand. The population majority. The majority representation in government. Historically unionism had maintained control through gerrymandering. Internment had targeted republicans almost exclusively, ignoring crimes committed by loyalists. While I couldn’t fault the police chasing bombers and gunmen I still cannot condone the prejudiced persecution of the wider republican community and the comparative lack of pursuit of the loyalist bombers and gunmen.

I am a Northern Irishman. I hold a British passport but I am not British. I am happy to be called Irish because that’s more like what I feel. But given the option (and this should be widely recognised officially) I am Northern Irish. This country is heavily influenced by cultures of Ireland and Britain. Since before partition NI has felt different from either parent nation- but with overlaps. Ideology means many here refuse to accept the impact that that heritage has had on shaping them, how much they carry, to the point where they shout you down when you speak up for that inheritance.

I’m a modern day mudblood. In my veins courses Irish catholic heritage, and Ulster-Scot protestant heritage. I’ve recently taken a DNA test as part of my genealogy research, and I’ll be interested to see what the science says about my family’s make-up. Most of my Scottish line I’ve traced back to Ireland. My grandfather used to joke (at my grandmother’s expense) about her having Spanish forefathers. I wouldn’t be surprised if the results lean very heavily towards an Irish ancestry, with perhaps a little Scottish. I’ll share the results in the new year when they come back. Maybe they’ll suggest something else, but right now I feel it would be disingenuous to disown my Irishness.

We are products of the society we are born into. We don’t make a choice in that – nature does that for us. Most of us inherit the politics and religion of our parents. Some of us will move away from that faith, mostly into atheism, but few will shake their politics. As a nation we need to learn to move past this original sin mentality that keeps us fighting each other, dividing us up into ‘us’ and ‘them’. We cannot keep brow-beating this generation for the mistakes of their parents and grandparents. We cannot treat every republican or unionist as if they are militant with a grudge to spend. We cannot repeat the errors of the past.

Twelfth bonfire, Newtownards. Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

Twelfth bonfire, Newtownards. Photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

I acknowledge the injustices perpetrated by my perceived community in the past. I understand the feeling of disenfranchisement by the perceived other community. I understand why people on both sides got caught up in militant struggles, defence and retaliation. I understand we are not a healed society. But we cannot continue like that. I’ve heard such anger and bitterness from both protestants and catholics this last year – the fears of the other haven’t gone away, with both firmly believing themselves to be right and the others bitter and vengeful. Its scary to listen to. If only they could hear themselves.

I listen to lines about how the Twelfth celebrations are an example of pageantry and aren’t sectarian. Then I see the bonfires becoming adorned with flags, election posters and other weighted symbols and they become totems of hate once again and I cannot be a part of that. Tribalism and sectarianism only cement division and mistrust. They weaken us. They allow us to be manipulated by those in power. For a Christian order, Orangeism stands out against Jesus’ command to love our enemies (Matthew ch5 v44).

I believe in dialogue. Listening. Trying to understand. When someone tells me I’m wrong I’ll listen to their argument, I’ll try and research the areas I’m faulty in. And either I’ll reaffirm my position or it will change. Being able to stand up and say, ‘Yup, I was wrong’ is important. I want to understand, to move forward. I’ll listen to any politics, any religious exchange, and I’ll stand and ask questions of myself and others. Testing one’s faith, one’s understanding, is important. I have broken my own rules, my own prejudices repeatedly, and been happier for it. I’m not betraying my ‘people’ because tribalism is something imposed on us by societies and the xenophobic. I’m being true to myself.

Fall apart and start again

27 Nov
photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

photo © 2016 Robert JE Simpson. All Rights Reserved.

“Hold your breath and count to ten. Fall apart and start again…”

Healing involves change. It is impossible for things to go back as they once were, the scars reshape our countenance. That doesn’t mean things have to be totally different, but one needs to accept the changes, grand and subtle.

As I continue my healing process I evolve. I recognise more of my failings, things holding me back, and I seek to improve. Compared to a year ago I am a different person. But I’m still held back from achieving full potential. Fear does that a lot. Fear of failure. Fear of getting hurt. Fear of hurting someone else. Fear of making the same mistakes.

But that’s all very negative. Destructively so, because if fear rules then I don’t take chances. And then I never progress personally or professionally. And so I’m pushing past the fear as best I can.

I’m in the middle of overhauling my social media profiles. Regenerating my presence. I had left myself too exposed, shared too much for too long. Let it be an outlet at times when I should have said nothing.

It’s difficult to turn one’s back on a decade of posts, photos, memories, but it’s the right thing to do. A clean slate to make new memories, new conversations.

All summer and winter Facebook has assailed me with memories of my past, and far too often they were memories of the abusive relationship that nearly killed me. Photos would be highlighted; comments under other posts showed her name, more photos. Memories start flooding back. Caught up in a nascent relationship in the present, I panicked, projected, and began the descent into another break down – my first in years. Without that social media I don’t believe this would have happened, or certainly not as severely. It won’t be allowed to happen again.

And so it’s all going. I’m going to have to part with the positive memories too, but the cleanse is the only way to move forward now, and I’ve been putting it off for a long time. A brand new profile. Like a new identity – its me. But one in which the narrative has yet to be set.

I’ve begun my clear out of possessions too – also imbued with memories of the past. I’m as much a hoarder as a collector, and I can no longer see the wood for the trees – I don’t need it. I want to build a future for myself. An existence unencumbered by associations. Anything I keep around me should be positive, not negative. I want to be able to pursue the career and indeed life path I need without holding back. Less clutter. Less retrospectivity. Less baggage.

My other social media profiles will regenerate too. Some more obviously than others. A little less of me is no bad thing. Whatever latent narcissism I may possess, is just going to have to learn how to begin again. A comparatively clean slate. A space for a new me, a new life. One in which I push myself and be the best version of me I can be.

Closure

22 Nov

Everything ends. Closure is vital for healing. Without it our minds spiral, caught always wondering. Recognising and accepting it isn’t always easy. And sometimes we are left without the closure we need – injustices left unpunished, things left unsaid, ourselves wanting.

With that in mind I’m bringing part of this blog to an end, and am making some rare redactions. I’ve let too much of me on display at times. I’ve upset people that matter to me. I have frightened them away. My expositions are colouring impressions in a negative and misleading way. I am hurting myself as a result. And it cannot continue.

I am changing the tone. It will remain personally flavoured but differently so. My relationships are off limits from now on, in the blog and in my private life. I’ve unwittingly damaged those I’ve pursued as I let my stream of conscious flow. I crossed a line I wish I hadn’t.

While I will try and depersonalise some of the narrative, I will maintain some personal content relating to my mental health issues and the affects of my abusive experiences on my life. I do not wish to be a victim. But there is still much work to be done on both issues, and too many struggle to accept that someone can exist with mental health problems and live a normal life. Even more struggle to accept a man can be abused by a woman, but it is important I continue to speak the truth on that matter – the abuse was real, it happened, and it happens for thousands of others every day. It does not define me, but it has shaped me.

I must, however, be more conscious about the way that my words can be used against me and others close to me.

It is time to shut the door on the past. My living space is swamped with shit and it needs set free. I shall be ebaying and dumping in the coming weeks. It is OK to say goodbye to memories. I don’t need every tiny bit of personal memorabilia. It clusters my mind and my life. It leaves me living in an unhealthy past, blinkered to the positives of the present.

There are those who think I cannot change, but they are wrong. I evolve constantly. I have been healing and continue to heal. I will conquer those challenges which put themselves in my life. I would prefer to have a partner with me, but I fear that my frankness and past makes me an impossible prospect. And so I must live alone.

I am putting myself first, and will embrace the positive things in my life. This year has been amazing and I can’t loose sight of that. Next year will be even better. As this incarnation of my writing closes, something else opens up. It regenerates – the same thing but different. Give it a chance, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

 

Don’t Dream It, Be It

29 Feb
Tim Curry as Dr Frank-N-Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Tim Curry as Dr Frank-N-Furter in The Rocky Horror Picture Show

After spending years in an oppressive environment, of late I’ve rather come out of my shell. I’m sure that’s not entirely the fault of the multiple Rocky Horror experiences I’ve had this year (more about that in another post in due course), but somewhere along the lines the two are mixed. As a teenager viewing The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time I felt a nerve being touched – a glimpse of the slightly ambiguous, non-judgemental environment which came closest to my own sense of self. Not tied to ideas of gender, sexuality and orientation. A world in which its okay to be yourself.

A few years ago I met Patricia Quinn for the first time: an actress who I’d had a crush on as an adolescent, but importantly, someone from my home town who had done much to break down barriers in the perception of sexuality thanks to her iconic portrayal of Magenta in the Rocky Horror stage show and film. We’ve kept in touch, but I don’t think I’ve told Pat exactly how grateful I am for that film, and her part in it. Being a nerdy sort of kid who loved creaky British horror films during the 1990s – a time when such things didn’t seem cool, at least not here in Northern Ireland – I needed to find an escape, or at least something I could connect with.

I’ve talked before about the difficulties in perception with regards sexual orientation. It shouldn’t matter, but I think for me that need to label myself, that need to be understood, stems from my religious upbringing. We were an ostensibly Christian household. With that come certain expectations and pressures. And I know that those teachings, learnings, and enforced morality is part of the reason I entered my 30s a bit of a mess.

Over the last year I’ve slowly started drifting towards things that I’d put to one side as I once again reclaim myself and find a new sort of comfort in things I used to do.

You know how it is. We all change constantly as we go through life. We enter relationships and either because of comfort, or because our partners aren’t into the same things, we make compromises and things go to the wayside. In my mid-20s, happy in a relationship I parted the ways with my piercings and just about completely stopped wearing what little make-up I did dabble in. It wasn’t a big deal, and I don’t recall any specific moment at which those things were halted. I was utterly complicit in the ‘normalising’ of my self, and it is something I long ago accepted. But I am aware that I wasn’t utterly happy – I did feel in some way that there were aspects to my means of self-expression that I had denied myself.

I don’t make any secret of my little foibles, but they’re seldom seen these days. Traditional workplaces had a huge part to play in me toning down – somehow you felt it would be inappropriate to colour your nails and serve books to the masses – which is ridiculous of course, because a woman doing the same thing wouldn’t so much as encourage a batted eyelid. Frankly if I chose to wear a dress to work every day it wouldn’t alter my ability to do the job at hand, and I’m annoyed at myself for allowing myself to fall into such binary thinking in this modern era.

Over the last year I found myself increasingly thinking about my own sense of ‘otherness’ – that sense that one doesn’t quite fit in within local circles. Rocky Horror crept back into my life at a time I was already deep into consideration and over and over again that line “Don’t dream it, be it” has helped drive me forward within professional and personal development. I’m reminded that one has to be true to oneself, and to embrace aspirations, to stop living in a fantasy and make the fantasy a reality. No bad advice for anyone going through life.

Its amazing how simple gestures can start to take over one’s thoughts. I regularly carry the urge to paint my nails, and simply haven’t for practical reasons lately. Work mostly. I’ve also been thinking a lot about getting pierced again. I got a couple done in my early 20s but stopped because it was all far too simple, too easy. I didn’t feel any sort of traumatic pain, discomfort or anything that would remind one of process rather than the adornment of the body with simple jewellry. A while ago I started wearing pieces again – something which for the most part isn’t noticed by those on the outside world. I think its one of the things I like about my own piercing experience – you may know its there, you may even have glimpsed it once, but for the most part they go unnoticed.

After much prevarication and procrastination I finally popped along and got myself a new piercing this week – around 14 years after my last one. I’ve been thinking about it since I was a teenager (along with several others if I’m honest). Having reached a number of milestones over the last year, and still being a single fellow, the timing felt right. I’ve nobody to answer to except for myself, and if this makes me happy, in whatever small way, then shouldn’t I?

I realise getting one’s body pierced (especially those that deviate from the face) can have a detrimental affect on one’s potential love connections. There’s a lot of folk who are very turned off by piercings. Similarly there are those who are only into piercing. But does one want either? Surely its better to be involved with somebody who doesn’t care one way or another – who is into you for you? I don’t do these things for anyone else. It shouldn’t matter one jot how many people you have or haven’t slept with, it shouldn’t matter how modified your body is or isn’t, and it shouldn’t matter really what you do to earn a crust. Those things can, of course, impact the course of a relationship, but they simply don’t make you somebody else, and lying about it, or oppressing it doesn’t work.

Being true to myself and not repressing my own individual kinks and eccentricities has made me a happier person in myself. Why wouldn’t you want that?


Video: Getting the new piercing!