Why I’m suspicious of those suspicious of change.

It’s the same mantra and hand wringing every few years.

“THEY ARE RUINING THE SCENE!”

“It was So. Much. Better in the (insert decade prior to current decade)!”

When people bemoan the broader acceptance and cultural destigmatization of BDSM and scoff at the hoi polloi who ruined the glory days, I can’t help but wonder what they are really mourning.

The previous overwhelming whiteness?

The lack of accessibility of real assistance in times of trouble?

Knowledge sharing that isn’t limited by a self-selecting and self-aggrandizing cadre of folks who may be awesome, knowledgeable and benign or may be vicious predators?

Do they miss the scandals and abuses that were swept under the table, never to be seen again?

Is it possible that their membership in the exclusive cool club trumps the possibility of a nascent sexual explorer finding true freedom?

I’ve been around long enough to know that those good old days – like ALL good old days – were a mixed bag. Personally. I’m glad that there are so many more people of diverse ethnicities. socioeconomic backgrounds, sexualities, genders, racial and body types than I was seeing back in the mid 90s.

If the price we pay for a blossoming and diverse and more welcoming community is a bit of banality, bring it on.

Evolve or perish.

My identity as a Leatherwoman, kinkster, pervert and slave ain’t compromised by the soccermom or codemonkey across the dungeon swapping cookie recipies. Unless, of course, they don’t BRING cookies to the party.

Then we do have a Problem.