Normally, we at Deviance write in an explanatory, educational, and sometimes entertaining way. But today, I need something else: a little writing therapy. For those who don’t know me: I’m Marina, and I founded Deviance a few years ago.
Explaining is close to our hearts, especially when it comes to guiding beginners. Even those of you seasoned folks reading this started somewhere and know how much can go wrong.
And then you leave the bubble
Then there’s education. Internally and externally. Internally means reaching people who are already interested in BDSM. Who want to learn more. Who have questions. Who are curious.
Externally, it’s much harder. Because outside the scene, interest isn’t always a given. And that’s fine. But when you’re met with rejection or judgment, I do see a need to clarify things. Not just to explain myself, but also for you.
The problem is: before you can even start, you have to figure out where to begin. Because as I was reminded again yesterday, people who claim to have “never had anything to do with BDSM” tend to have wildly different ideas about what it even is.
Welcome to someone else’s fantasy
I say “claim” very deliberately, because in reality, everyone has come into contact with BDSM in some way. Through movies, books, music, porn, or conversations. Otherwise, you couldn’t even say you “have nothing to do with it”, but be totally clueless. And while I often get asked what the letters stand for, pretty much everyone already has some image in their head.
That’s why I now always ask people first what they think BDSM is. That’s my starting point. From the manager in a pig mask visiting a dominatrix, to 50 Shades of Grey, to “that rope stuff“, to fluffy handcuffs and group sex, I’ve heard it all.
Fur, porn, projection
BDSM is still often thrown into the same pot as the swinger scene, which would honestly be worth its own article. But today I promised myself not to go off on tangents.
“Isn’t it draining to be constantly confronted with human darkness in your work?” That was the question someone asked me yesterday. Someone who works in so-called shadow work, helping people confront their darkest fears. Spiritually speaking. Whether you believe in that or not, I think it’s important to mention, because it reveals the deeper belief behind this person’s question: that BDSM is something demonic that needs to be healed.
I do this voluntarily, I promise
No, I love my job. I love encouraging people to embrace their fantasies and express themselves. That’s what my work means to me.
What is draining is having to answer these kinds of questions. And constantly pushing back against false assumptions, clichés and being shoved into a box. That’s why I’m writing today. Personally. Reflectively. And with the urge to set a few things straight.
Most people somehow understand that BDSM is based on consent. “But why do people do it?” they ask. And still, the prevailing assumption is that it’s just about sex – and the harder, the better.
People meet up, beat each other, or have rough sex – and that’s it. Meaningless. And far removed from what most people understand as love.
So where’s the love in BDSM? Right there.
The amount of trust, consent, communication, and awareness involved and the fact that most BDSM practices take place within long-term relationships, where one-night stands are actually rare is not just unknown to most. It’s nearly unimaginable. As is the emotional depth, intimacy, and respect that shape these dynamics.
“We’re launching a Tantra course. Basically the opposite of what you’re doing.” That’s what a fellow founder said to me recently. And yes, it annoyed me.
Because neo-Tantra and BDSM are surprisingly similar and not opposites at all. Both require mindfulness, presence, conscious touch, clear communication, and a deep understanding of boundaries and needs. Both can be spiritual, transformative, and healing. If practiced with intention and mutual agreement.
It’s not a secret , that there are frequent reports of abuse in the neo-Tantra world. I say “neo-Tantra” intentionally, because traditional Tantra is a spiritual life philosophy, not the sexual practices that have been rebranded and marketed under that name in the Western world.
But okay, those are too two entirely separate topics. And as I said, I didn’t want to get too sidetracked today. Maybe I’ll save them for the next round of writing therapy.
No call to action, no punchline
Encounters like these always remind me: we need to talk. There’s still so much to say, to explain, to correct. Not just within the community, but far beyond it.
At the end of this piece, I had originally planned to make a call for more educational activism. But everything I came up with sounded so generic it could’ve been tacked onto any random article. And that’s fine. Not every therapy session needs a tidy conclusion. Sometimes it’s enough to leave with something to think about until your next session.
