Shame, Part Four

There would be no shame without curiosity.  It is not real shame (is it?) if we did not ask for a little bit of it.  Or, more than a little bit.  Curiosity is the beginning of shame.  In the story of Eve with Adam in Paradise, it is curiosity (not defiance) that claims Eve's innocence.  It is not that she wanted to upset God.  It is not that she tried to get Adam in trouble.  It is a very simple motive that changes poor Eve forever after: curiosity.

With curiosity comes temptation.  With temptation comes indulgence.  And, from indulgence derives gratification which, alas, feels so good... or feels terrible.  It depends.  But, in the end, the terrible feeling is shame.

It is the terrible feeling anorexics feel for eating food.  It is the terrible feeling alcoholics feel for drinking whiskey.  It is the terrible feeling pedophiles feel when looking at a child in short pants.  It is the terrible feeling victims of bullies feel when they read the text message that says "Everybody thinks you smell foul."  The shame comes after the eating; after the drinking; after the looking; after the clicking and opening and reading.  The shame comes after the curiosity.

Shame comes from secrets.  The secret is the closet where shame resides, hangs up its hat and coat, settles in.  The secret is the darkness and safety of that closet.  We know where that closet is, what hides inside.  We know, because we shut the door and keep it safe.  We know because we volunteer, in this act of shame-keeping, to give the secret a good home.  Sometimes it is for good, that we keep this secret.  It protects people.  Sometimes it is for worse, that we keep this secret: it hurts people and we are too weak to change it.  Shame relies on this secret, though, however we look at it.  Shame relies on this secret, and relies on our ability to hold that closet door closed.

If we do not keep that door closed, then shame will no longer be private:  shame will become public embarrassment.  Shame will become the object of public scorn, and then guilt blossoms from the garden of soiled embarrassment.  The danger with shame is the imbalance of power, again: shame has the potential to destroy every carefully-balanced arrangement.

Shame, Guilt, and Embarrassment co-exist in this way:  shame is private; embarrassment is public; and guilt is the responsibility of the individual to action, somehow -- rightly or wrongly.

Shame, Part Three

Shame as kink involves a phenomenon that I still find difficult to put into words.  I have a great empathy for the practice, but I do not wish to practice it.  I do, however, understand the incredibly powerful connection that arises when two people engage: shame actually fails without that incredibly powerful connection.  To put it another way, shame is evidence that the connection between two people exists.  (Of course, there are other ways to test and prove the connection.  But, shame is as good a proof as any.)

Even if the players have only just met.  Even if the players do not even know each other's names. Or even if the players have played for fifty years one way and one way only.  "Shame" as a kink is a peculiar kind of connection between two people.  Take, for example, the idea of "insult."

On one hand, if someone I have no connection to, someone I feel completely indifferent to, tells me "You, Anna, are a dog, a low-lying guttersnipe," then I feel more puzzled than anything else.  "I have no idea why you would say such a thing, but I'm not curious to find out.  Goodbye," would be my answer.  In other words, I reject the insult as irrelevant to me.  It does not strike the target.  It does not hit home.  My core is perfectly preserved.

On the other hand, if someone for whom I have great respect, or great longing, or great lust, or great need, or great dependency upon, tells me, "You, Anna, are a dog, a low-lying guttersnipe," then for a moment I actually believe those words.  I admit those words into my core.  Not permanently... but, for a time.  Just to examine them and to see if they are real.

Personally, I do not feel "turned on" by being insulted. I feel emotionally struck when I am insulted by someone I love.  Those words "hit home" with a bulls-eye target if those words come from someone I trust.  Logical or not, I admit those words.  And so it is with shame.  If shame were my kink, I could see how powerful it would feel -- how strong the connection would become in my mind, in my body, in my imagination, in my whole reality -- if the man I worshipped were to look into my eyes and say the words that would make me feel shame.  Or if he were to position my body in the way that would shame me in front of others.  Or if he were to do anything, for that matter.

The connection is the idea.  "Kink" reinforces connection.  Whether it be shame, or cuffs, or dog-collar, or equipment, or words...  Kink reinforces connection.  Shame, like any other part of D/s relationships, requires both parties to participate, both parties to consent.  In fact, consent is half the shame, indeed.

Shame, Part Two

"Kink shame" and "shame as kink" are two different things.  Some people are ashamed of their kinks; and some are turned on as a kink by the idea of shame.

I spent a great deal of my second life (the first time around) dead-ashamed of my kinks.  (I mean, the "G" word.  My first BDSM fantasies were, counter-intuitively, Gorean.  And I'd never even heard of Gor before Second Life, so this was quite an awakening.)  I was not ashamed to live my fantasies of sexual slavery and participate actively -- only ashamed to associate my fantasy self with my real self and to introduce both selves to each other.  Often, it is shame that prevents many people from integrating their first and second lives: the feelings of shame lead to this behaviour of dividing (sometimes with a violence) the two lives.  In extreme cases, it is this shame that prevents the real self from meeting the fantasy self.  Living in the closet is a painful experience: one divides the self and it doesn't feel very good.  I am sure this theory applies to more than just "kink" and Second Life.  I am sure the idea of living in the closet is more common than society would be comfortable admitting.

In my series of interviews around "shame" I met many people who keep a careful array of closets.  Closets for reasons of gender, for reasons of sexual orientation, for reasons of shame and kinks... there are many reasons a person will hide part of oneself from the rest of the world.

I know that in my case, I have struggled in the past with asserting a confident sense of self.  Second Life has really helped me achieve a better (and loveable) sense of self.  I feel more confident saying to people "I need this."  I feel more confident saying to people, "I will not tolerate this."  I know the difference between fantasy and reality: and I know that I do not want one to become the other, but I would like both to have their own special places in my life.  This took quite a bit of time to articulate, finally.  Naturally, I wish that I could go back to the beginning knowing then what I know now.  Knowing that there is no shame (objectively) to wanting and desiring.  Knowing that I have a valid, loveable self that can play nice and contribute fun things.  Knowing that when someone acts like an ass, it's not because of something I did but, rather, that person is quite separately an ass regardless of me.

I'm over my kink-shame in much the same way that I am over my "invalid self" feelings.  I know I have a lot of people to thank for this.  I'm grateful for each and every one of them.

Shame, Part One

The reason why it is so easy to associate "shame" with "submission" (and, therefore, one reason why submissive personalities are often so vulnerable to unexpected bullying) is that the idea of shame depends upon the victimization of one's character -- the lowering of a person's self-esteem and the fragmentation of a person's ego.  It strips away the person's self-pride.  When used as a weapon by a bully (or a dominant personality who also happens to be a bully) the potential for long-term damage is enormous.  The submissive is at risk because this imbalance of power resembles power-exchange (in the same way that Cinderella in her ballroom gown resembles her evil sisters in their ballroom gowns).  A person who does not have the critical thinking skills to see this -- that power imbalance is not the same thing as power exchange -- will not see the damage, or the potential for damage, or even the problem in general.

Shame, I have been researching, results in the erasure of the self.  Shame is what makes us go away.  Shame is what makes us turn away.  Shame is what makes us want to remove, erase, eliminate, sever, bury, camouflage and mask something we believe to be wrong for us personally or as a species.  Shame is the button "go" that releases behaviours we cannot otherwise explain.

Shame emerges from the self, or shame is inflicted by a third party onto the self.  I may accept the gift of shame from another just as another accepts the gift of my submission.  In that case, if I accept his shame, then I accept the consequences of his shame.  It is a condition often expected of a submissive and results in many otherwise-inexplicable punishments (according to my interviews).  And because submission resembles victimization in the same way that Dominance resembles victory to the inexperienced and very vulnerable, too often the new submissive gets the foul end of things.

Domination by bullying; the victimization of character and ego; the perceived judgment of others... there are so many reasons why it is a good idea for a submissive (and a Dom, for the love of God) to take a mentor when first exploring the D/s lifestyle.  In Second Life, it is made so simple to do.