I get very amused by a lot of posts on Facebook. I will be the first one to admit that I spend way too much time staring at my Facebook page -- although I have tactfully stayed away from Farmville since I first got out of college -- but on occasion I see something that stands out; Farmville went out the door when I realized that I spending more time harvesting my pixel crops than replying to email or looking for jobs so I need something to occupy my time.
I had a friend who recently got bitten by the travel bug. She's a very homely friend, a lot more sheltered than I have ever been, and most of her world is in the bubble of my very conservative hometown. She and I are long-term friends, since middle school, however I tend to keep my life pretty hush-hush around her. In the odd way I feel like it's my job to protect her from the interesting truth of my life and, in a very disconcerting way, I know if she found out that I was kinky and poly, our friendship would be kaput. It just wouldn't work out between her and I and although I could see her trying to understand it I would know that the friendship would come to a screeching halt.
Well... today a sign on the "road of life" flashed by me that said "Steep hill up ahead!"
My friend decided, with her younger sister and their friend, to make a trip down south for the week and had ended up being smack dab in the middle of a My Little Pony convention. For anyone who knows about pop culture it isn't a secret that My Little Pony has been really transformed into a comic-con type event with a mix of being a furry. It's an industry, and a cult-type following, that attracts different demographics; including grown men. I had given my friend a lot of advice before she headed down on her trip about travel, what to watch out for, how flying on an airplane worked, and sights she needed to see however I will even admit I never thought up this scenario
Her post had certainly sparked my interest when she had mentioned running into guys who were wearing pony ears, wings, tails, and unicorn horns. I was almost concerned she had walked in on a kink convention, honestly. It's not entirely uncommon for certain members of the kink community to have elaborate costumes, sometimes which run about 1,000-2,000 dollars depending on how intricate you want the costume to be, and then there are whole subsections of pony play and furries. I will be the first one to admit that even the furry subsection is "weird" to me... I just have never been able to climb up on that bandwagon.
Normally I go with the flow with conversations that my friend and I have. I view it as just keeping things separate, usually she doesn't touch on anything in my personal life, but being a friend of certain Bronies (adult men who are die-hard fans of the show) myself I do get a little defensive; I don't think anyone deserves judgement if they want to walk around in an adult onesie with a horn on their head and cow-boy boots. I probably would not be caught dead hanging with them but if it makes them happy, go for it.
I almost nearly outed myself while stating my opinion, which was a reminder that I am on borrowed time. I've been keeping up a persona of a good Christian girl for years now -- 8 years exactly -- and even more if you count the fantasies of a teenager. It's common for a lot of members of the kink community to state that their interest traced back to childhood.
My slow, but quiet, hints and tips of tolerance towards my friend does not go amiss, it has led to some conversation, and has changed her mind a little but I find the stalling point, where our road will meet the mountain, is always getting closer. The car that she and I have decided to use as our vessel is a manual and unless manpower to push it up the hill is there I worry that we will slowly, but surely, roll backwards. I've rolled backwards before on the road with other friends in the same car but we both had to go down different roads and we ended up back at the fork in the road.
I view kink and vanilla, non-kink, friendships in a way that many of my lifestyle friends describe dating. Once you start dating someone who is kinky there are two types of people in the world. There is one type of person who, after seeing the handcuffs and the leather sheets you keep for "company" sake, makes a stealthy exit and never speaks of the adventure again; there is also the type of person that after you show them the handcuffs they smile and go "okay, cool, that doesn't scare me!"
I will admit that I am waiting for that day, dreading that day, when my friend finds my figurative handcuffs and has to make that decision.
I protect until I can go no further and then I need to hope my kinky boots, which are made for walking in this case, can push on the accelerator.
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