I don’t often get direct hate-mail, and certainly not hate-mail from the Motherland. Today, not only did those streams get crossed, I’ve been advised that, somehow, I will be responsible for the safety of whites in Africa.
“But Mollena,” you thoughtfully inquire, “…what in the actual fuck?”
I saw Tumblr banned raceplay December 19. Here in Africa we don’t feel like African Americans. We are highly offended by your clips that you make. I have a plan to upload your clips in radical sites in africa. Then you will see how the youth react to whites live among us here in Africa. We area 1.2 billion white maybe 10million. I will upload your disgusting clips in local sites in Africa. Your clips make us disgusted . Your white prostitutes insults all black men as a whole. We never been in slavery. We are proud. So I will upload your missyplantaion disgusting clips in local radical sites and some have to take responsibility. I told one porn site I am going to upload the raceplay clip I saw on thier site to the local site here in Africa. They deleted it immediately. You are the one who created raceplay that doesn’t represent 1.2 billion Africans. You white stunts in your workshop insults all blacks as a whole not people who are in that sick fetish. So you are a sell out cheap black woman trade your own community. Here in Africa we are proud.. if I upload your clips the youth clean out the whites. So be careful you playing with innocent white people life.
I…do not have scene clips on Tumblr so that’s confusing!
And wow! I CREATED race-play…? Get my plaque in the Perversion Hall of Fame bronzed, y’all!
I’m not at all sure how this threat to whites will fall out. But if I can do my bit to decolonize, I am 1000% here for it.
It may be the “missyplantation disgusting clips” they are speaking of is the ONE VIDEO from my International Ms Leather performance…in which case, they missed the point entirely! And if they even managed to find that one, they’ve spent a whole lot of time researching my history!
But hey, I wish them well in their quest to blame a Black gal from the USA for toying with the well-being of the descents of the colonisers who kicked their asses in many instances and left wounds from which many countries still have yet to recover.
I’ll be over here, waiting for the news of The Great Raceplay Purge.
If you don’t know, you need to know. There is a magnificent human, LadySpeech Sankofa aka QuiAnna Ray, and you absolutely need to pick up what she’s laying down. She often shares on Facebook, and does weekly reading and affirmation shares. One afternoon in October, I tuned in for QuiAnna Ray’s Monday reading. On this particular day, she drew a card that was labeled “THE SLAVE” so this of course perked my ears up…this ain’t yo average tarot deck!
As I was listening, truly feeling seen as she integrated the reality of power exchange relationships into her interpretation of the card, she spoke to how critical it was that we not see submission as a weakening or as a loss of our power. Then she said something that absolutely electrified and grounded me in the same moment:
Surrender does not mean you become ‘less than.’
Surrender means you become ‘more with.’
Lady Speech Sankofa
My heart leapt up. This. This was a pure distillation of the path I have been walking for these five years.
I’m a fan of Google calendar. I’ve never had a head for recalling dates, and time has an odd, elastic quality for me. An event that went down 38 years ago will sometimes resonate with greater strength than yesterday’s happenings, and even a phrase or a snippet of song can pull my entire body back to a memory that surprises and delights with its power.
Knowing this about myself, I’ve often relied on talismans and touchstones to pull myself back to previous times. As a storyteller, and as a forgetter, these mental way markers are critical to my work. This is one reason why my e-mail accounts are virtually overflowing with old messages and why I obsessively check and re-up old social media accounts. Some of these contain unique access codes to my past.
Tomorrow marks five years since I received my first message from some OKCupid dude who went by the bemusing handle “spicyspiritlove.” I still have a cut/paste copy of it. And that’s helpful, since OKC doesn’t keep old messages indefinitely. On that day I was in my online dating endgame. I’d had a combative conversation with my higher power not a week prior, and the outcome was that I planned to shut down my dating accounts, take down my BDSM Sex Ed pages, get a Real Job™ and get my shit together on my own. The exception to this plan was my meeting, in the next 2 weeks, the dominant who would make these choices obsolete and reset the course of my life so that I could focus on the shit I had been fantasizing about for over 2 decades. I knew this was impossible. And I was, frankly and honestly, totally fine with this. There is a freedom to accepting reality on reality’s terms and deciding to sculpt your own niche in the world without shame, sadness or regret.
And then this e-mail was in my account.
wow – your profile is great (theatre, sub, unusual spiritual fodder, curvifat black chick, trembling flower of submission…) I am older than you want (60) but I have a strong German/Austrian accent. I am strongly interested in BDSM with some experience (I am top) and I do not drink any alcohol. I trust in the definition of Robert Mapplethorpe “SM means Sex and magic”.I am an artist, very successful (probably member of the of top 10 or 20 in my genre in the world), crazy, developing new spaces. Especially interested in the dark sides of emotions.I would like to tame you.
Georg Friedrich Haas, December 19th, 2013
He didn’t have any photos on his page – claimed this was due to concerns around his notoriety – but offered to send me one as soon as he could, if that was okay.
It was, and boy was I amused when he sent them.
To myself I thought “Any dude who is trying to get into someone’s pants and sends these photos is truly living that WYSIWYG Lyfe.”
We made a date for a couple of days later and, as they say, the rest is history.
Of course, the story unfolded before us immediately…this is one of the very few times in my life that anniversaries are clear and memorable. Perhaps that is so that I can remember that the story is a Story, not a fairytale with fascinating twists. It is just…happening.
Los Angeles, 1993.
I was working at a pool bar that was actually an Armenian mafia front, but I did not know that yet. A co-worker invited me to her Mom's bar...free drinks all night. How could a fledging alkie resist? She casually mentioned it was absolutely the safest place to go hang out because it was a cop bar.
I looked at her like she had 3 heads and a tail.
How. How can you look at me and tell me a cop bar is safe? She assured me that, as the guest of the owner's daughter, I'd be fine. I was young enough to still have hope in these matters. So I went.
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Going to Leather, Kink and BDSM events brings so much to the forefront of my mind. Most impactful are my social anxiety and the pressure I place(d) on myself to excel at everything. To be the best presenter. The most amazing bottom/sub. To be a part of one of the most memorable scenes. Once I realised my perfectionism no longer served me, it initiated a slow process of detachment.
I was thinking about how attached I’d been to the idea of being a hardcore player…an intense masochist. What we in the scene will call a “heavy bottom,” because it met my need to overachieve. Over the years, I went from loving very intense sensations and edgier play to being neutral on these to finally dreading these scenes but still doing them…because I had a reputation to uphold, dammit.But then my sobriety took over. And lying to myself was over. And selfcare took over. And the “Me” who started off enjoying physical intensity evolved to the “Me” who cares less about impressing people than about being who I am…today.
It occurred to me it ain’t just me living inside this deception, and it doesn’t just apply to the dungeon.
Life is Growth and Change. The “You” you are today is not the “You” of your childhood…and probably is not even the “You” of a few years ago. Don’t let your attachment to a previous iteration of “You” frighten you away from your Truth. Don’t let someone else’s attachment to a previous “You” stunt your growth, hold you back, crush your spirit.
Those attached to a previous release can enter download your upgrade or uninstall, clear their cache and get the fuck out.
You’ll find it difficult to accept the beauty of who you are becoming if you hold tight to who you were.
I have nothing to prove to anyone, and everything to gain by letting go of the need to reiterate previous versions of myself so that other folks can feel comfortable while I bleed inside.
Because being your authentic fucking self is edge-play enough, yo.
Wow it has been a while…but life has many twists and turns and I am absolutely letting go of blogdeath guilt!
If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you’ve seen so much of our lives you’re probably up in my cheese extensively! SO you probably know that we spent a year consensually stalked by some Germans who then spent a year cobbling together a documentary about is and great balls of fire, it is hitting the documentary circuit!
Me being me, I’m wondering if it is interesting to folks at all, and if so, why. The world premier was at an international festival in Thessaloniki and the audience response was amazing. The first post-screening Q&A set a record for the longest they’d had in their 20 year history, and we broke THAT record immediately thereafter with our second screening. Next up is the Hot Docs Festival in Toronto, and we will be at the first 2 screenings, along with Beatrice and René, the filmmakers, and my dear friend Beth, our Producer.
Despite my own insecurities, I know it is important for stories to be heard and many folks see themselves in us. Older people, ft folks, people in interracial relationships, sexual minorities….we are out there and we are having full, wonderful lives and I think it is important for everyone to know what love can do.
Keep an eye out, as I am trying very hard to discipline myself to post more frequently…even if it is just a few words here and there. Even those matter.
Before the end of the year and I am finished packing my owner/s suitcase. I have a particular system, as one might when packing and unpacking bits and pieces of one’s life around the country and all over Europe has fallen into the realm of the quotidian.
Or at least a couple of times a month.
Packing cubes have saved (the shredded, desperate wind and time torn tatters of) my sanity and I can count out the number i need with a sightless hand in the basket where they are stored. One smaller pouch for 10 pairs of socks, another for 10 underpants, 10 undershirts in another, pants for work and relaxing in their own container. A light jacket, two swearers, 3 button-down shirts and 2 turtlenecks in a garment bag, folded in half as to minimize wrinkles. Into the suitcase goes an addict’s tools: a portable Nespresso (one of two, because we need one that runs on USA as well as EU currents) and sufficient pods to facilitate the caffeine addict’s daily drug dose. Into the suitcase also go the gifts for his youngest offspring, with whom he will be visiting as well as the games that they play together while he is with her.
Packed and weighed to insure that it is under the weight limit, I add in some slippers, just in case his feet get cold.
He returns to the bedroom, smiles as he sees me stuffing the last of the shirts into the last of the pouches.
“Dahling. Thank you. I can feel the love you give me.”
His consideration of the reality of service as love and erotic fulfillment is still new.
When we were in Europe, we had a wonderful series of private sessions with my friend Rebecca Lowrie, a sexuality and intimacy coach and…healer, really. We were with her to talk about some of the Stuff we are working on in our relationship. Too much to mention here but we have, my owner and I, very different experiences of our sexual histories.
Deborah AddingtonHow has your perspective on service, as an act that nurtures your Spirit, shifted over time? Do you experience embodied differences in where/how you feel the Eros of service in your flesh?
The universe has turned everything on its head, and my wonderful owner, Georg Friedrich will marry me on September 25th. Some folks have asked about us being registered for the wedding, and I’ve dragged my feet on it because I am shy about these kinds of things. Shyness aside, this house slave would love fun gifts for our newlywed celebration, and we are touched and grateful that people wish to participate in the cerebration in this way!
If you are less inclined to give gifts, we are also helping the Temple Beth Emeth v’Ohr Progressive Shaari Zedek upgrade the sound system in their sanctuary! Our dear friend, Rabbi Heidi Hoover, not only officiated our collaring but her Synagogue is welcoming us into their sacred space to conduct our wedding. No, we aren’t converts to Judaism….however we have a connection to and respect for a people who would welcome us into their midst with such love and warmth.
Those who wish to make a donation can use my gMail account under Mojogoddess to do so. tn the memo field please put “DONATION To Temple Beth Emeth’s Sound System” and indicate if you need a receipt for tax purposes!
The wedding begins at 1:00PM EDT, but the stream will likely be live before then. The Password will be posted as a “Friends Only” post on Facebook, so if you are friends with either the Groom or Bride, you’ll have access!
Periscope will ALSO be available! Download and install the app (https://www.periscope.tv/). You must follow user viviane212. As the feed will be private, you must follow her and she will follow you back
Thank you, friends. Your love and support and wonderful happy energy lifts us up.