When I stumbled over sadomasochism in my late teens, I felt like everybody was getting something I didn’t. Why did they choose a Marquis as a symbol of the huddled masses? Why was whipping people associated with freedom for these people? Why did sadomasochists try to make themselves out as an oppressed minority and “the cool kids” simultaneously?
It was like an inside joke, and I was determined to get behind it. I mean, it was there. When I came out as a Lesbian, one of the first books I read about being a Lesbian had a long section in it about how to do sadomasochism (and another one mocking separatism). Our local women’s and Lesbians’ café held sadomasochistic workshops. And I was a leftist. By sheer association I figured I should be okay with it.
I went to university, and of course sadomasochism was there, too. Again, student organisations…
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