One of the Good Ones by Maika Moulite and Maritza Moulite
Happi Smith and her family are devastated after the tragic death of her sister, Kezi, who died in police custody after being arrested at a social justice rally. To celebrate Kezi’s birthday, Happi and her sister Genny take a road trip with Kezi’s friend, Derek, and Kezi’s girlfriend Ximena. This is a trip that Kezi planned before she died. The plan is to follow Route 66 and stop at places from The Negro Motorist Green Book, while sharing African-American history with Kezi’s followers on YouTube. She even planned some stops that were important to her own family’s history. The book jumps from the present to the past to uncover similar racial injustices with Happi’s ancestors, and dives into social injustice, police brutality, and racism that are still present today.
Last night my owner texted me links to two gifs. One was a girl with her head in the toilet, getting pissed on, and the other was of a crying girl having her head shaved. Both are things he’s said he’s going to do to me.
My reaction was, “Aww. How sweet! He was thinking of me!”
These are Reaction Junkie’s shoes.We have a protocol in place so that whenever we come home together I have to kneel down, take his shoes off, and wait for him to put my collar on and tell me I may stand. If I’m already there when he comes home, I have to go to the door, get on my knees, take his shoes off, and stay kneeling until he puts my collar on and allows me to get up. This protocol is an “us” thing, and it’s important to me, and to him.
On Monday night, Reaction Junkie got dinner with another partner, so I was home before him. I started cooking, and was getting into it. But when the front door opened and I heard Reaction Junkie’s voice, I stopped what I was doing and started towards him to kneel, take his shoes off, and have my collar put on. Then I heard another voice, his partner’s.
I stopped in my tracks and several emotions went through me. I didn’t have a problem with her being there, but he presence was entirely unexpected. I felt blindsided, unprepared for interacting with her. I like her, but she knows about my jealousy issues, some of them have been about her, and I always feel a bit uncomfortable around her, sometimes even anxious about how to behave. So, even though I had been excited to see Reaction Junkie, I was suddenly reluctant to follow our protocol.
I spun around and went back to the kitchen and kept prepping. They both came into the living room, and Reaction Junkie sat down. He took his shoes off with what sounded like a joking/off-hand comment, something like, “You can’t take them off, since that’s [LFB’s] job.” I was already feeling a bit put out because he hadn’t called me over to remove his shoes for him and to put my collar on me, so when he handed his shoes to his other partner, and said, “Put these by the door,” I started feeling upset. It didn’t help that her response was, “Yes, sir,” even if it was said somewhat jokingly.
I looked up and opened my mouth as if to say something, but instead I just glared at both of them. I didn’t feel great about the expression I knew was on my face, but I kind of didn’t care. I was upset and sad and frustrated and I felt let down and really hurt. He was having someone else take care of his shoes. Something that is supposed to be just between us. Something that is very important to me, and to our d/s dynamic. I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, so I focused very hard on the chopping I was doing in an attempt not to cry.
Then, as she walked towards the front door, he called after her, “Can you grab the collar hanging on the hook by the door?” I went cold for a second. That was the last straw. He didn’t follow our protocol and he was having someone else get my collar? Another partner, no less? I now felt angry. When she came back, Reaction Junkie took my collar from her and came over to me. I think he’d noticed something was up by this point, but if not, when I turned away from him and said, “No.” He tried again, and I repeated my refusal. I think part of me was hoping he would slap me or something, but instead he looked sad, kind of wounded, and he asked me, “Please let me put it on you?” I felt bad for a moment, but shook my head and returned to cooking.
His partner was there for a few more minutes, during which (and I feel bad about this), I stared at the counter and didn’t acknowledge either her or Reaction Junkie. Reaction Junkie walked her to the door and then came back to the kitchen. I said, “I’m glad you don’t care about our d/s dynamic,” or something to that effect, and started to cry. Reaction Junkie replied, “I do care. I care a lot,” sounding hurt and surprised, even a little upset.
I told him how I’d felt when he didn’t follow our protocol and then had his other partner take his shoes to the door. Like he didn’t care about our protocol or he wasn’t thinking about it or he wasn’t thinking about me. He hugged me and explained that it is important to him and he had been thinking about it. In fact, he’d put a lot of thought into it. That was why he didn’t have her take his shoes off, and even said that it was because that’s something only I do. He told me that he hadn’t done the rest of the protocol because I was cooking and he didn’t want to interrupt because sometimes I find that upsetting. Plus, he needed to go to the bathroom.
I listened and started feeling bad about how I’d reacted. I started apologizing and saying that I shouldn’t have reacted like that, that it shouldn’t matter so much, etc. He stopped me and told me that no, I didn’t need to apologize for my feelings, and that of course it’s important. He validated my feelings and said all the right things, which of course made me feel worse about how I’d behaved.
He continued reassuring me and made sure that I understood where he’d been coming from. I was still upset, but starting to feel better. Then Reaction Junkie picked up a bag of stuff to recycle and said, “I’m going to take this out,” looking at me meaningfully before adding, “And I’’m going to put my shoes back on.” I grinned at him and he gave me a kiss and left the apartment. I listened until I heard the front door open. I scampered over to Reaction Junkie, knelt at his feet and removed his shoes. He put my collar on me, reminded me that I’m his, and had me crawl back to the kitchen.
In the future, I’m going to do a better job of giving him the benefit of the doubt. He loves me and cares about me, so he wouldn’t intentionally do something like have someone else provide him a service that is just an us thing. He’s very smart, so I would do well to assume that he’s given thought to what he does, particularly in relation to things that are important to me. If I’m uncertain about something, instead of imagining the worst (that he doesn’t care about our dynamic), I should trust him enough to communicate my concerns, not shut down and turn away.
In addition to the relationshipy/love/partner type of reasons I should have behaved differently, there is also the fact that he owns me and I’ve submitted to him. He knows best, so if he deviates from our usual routine, I should trust that he has a reason. Additionally, I shouldn’t allow external factors stop me from doing my part. If I had remembered my place and the promise of my submission, I wouldn’t have stopped on my way to take his shoes off just because I was surprised by another person being with him. I shouldn’t feel shy or embarrassed about demonstrating my submission by following our protocol. I should feel proud and pleased with myself, happy to show off that submission and have others see the connection that Reaction Junkie and I have.
In the future, when I think that Reaction Junkie is showing that he doesn’t care about our dynamic, or does something else that I feel hurt by, I’m going to do things differently. I’m going to assume that he’s included me in his decision making. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt, not jump right to the worst conclusions. I’m going to remember that he loves me and cares about my feelings. I’m going to communicate. I’m going to follow our protocols and rules and do as he says no matter how I feel or who else is around. I’m going to recognize that he knows best. I’m going to actively remind myself that I’ve submitted to him all the time, not just when I feel like it. I’m going to work hard to be a better partner and to live up to what I’ve written on this blog.
my boyfriend is not any flavour of queer. he says he “wishes he was” because queer people “just seem to understand the world so much” by which i assume he means we by default actually consider society wrt sex and gender, but he is unfortunately both cis and het. he’s checked.
he carries around a copy of “the little book of lgbtq” in his backpack at all times in case he needs to look something up.
a good chunk of his youtube history is queer history / queer media / ‘what it’s like to be x’ videos. he thinks all of you with the less famous identities (ie not the L G B or T) are very cool and funky and hopes you have a good day.
he knows he’s straight because he has kissed men on several occasions and was not into it sexually. one of those times was a gay dude who promised to buy him drinks all night in exchange for a kiss and my boyfriend is nothing if not a wee whore. one of the others was kissing his gay friend who was depressed about not being able to hook up with anyone, because he is a very sweet wee whore.
he would do it again because he is very neutral on the kiss itself (not into it, but not grossed out by it. it’s just a kiss, innit) and because he doesn’t want people to be so lonely and sad that they cry in the smoking area of the club.
I would like to point out queer isn’t just specifically a term for referring to oneself as on all the LGBTQ+ spectrum or not. It also refers to people who are uncertain, questioning or don’t fit into a normal sexual spectrum. Your boyfriend definitely reads as queer ( even if it’s just as a sense that he experimented at all). But yeah, not exclusive to be gay
i know that’s why i said he isn’t “any flavour” because “he has checked”
he has thought about it long and hard and come to the conclusion he is both cis and het and not queer at all. he is, as it were, no longer even questioning.
I’M still questioning because I am like 70% sure there is something that will click into place in that otherwise empty brain eventually and it isn’t Just The Autism but until (if) it does
my boyfriend is not queer
I told him that most cishet people a) do not self-examine their gender and sexuality to that extent and simply just. exist like that without ever thinking about it and b) do not watch (by his own estimation) 4+ hours of queer history/theory/media content on youtube per week and he is, in typical himbo fashion, absolutely baffled
“but how do you know you’re cis and straight if you don’t learn about all the other options and think about it”
people just exist in default mode without opening the character customisation screen my love
“but do they not think all of it is really cool?”
not particularly. mostly they do not think about it unless they know a queer person, honestly. and for sure most of them don’t think about all of this and then be sad they aren’t queer. like. they don’t wish they were.
“why wouldn’t you though? queer people are all so cool and interesting! i’m just boring! literally all of you have something cool going on”
this is very much a you thing and i think it’s the Big Spicy Autisms but i do love that queer people are your special interest. you’re like that marge simpson potato meme. 'I just think they’re neat!’
“but how do other people not find it fascinating and want to know about it? it’s all of human history! it’s an innate part of humanity! it’s being a person!”
hun idk what to tell you but they just don’t. you’ve done far more thinking about this and definitely far more learning than like. 99% of cis straight white dudes would ever even dream of.
“i’m really bad at telling if people are, though”
yeah you just simply assume everyone is queer until proven otherwise which is very funny but also the opposite of what everyone else does
“noteveryone. only people who look vaguely cool”
forgot to add the best bit of this conversation as he was on his way out of the door
“i really like gay nightclubs though because everyone is really friendly and awesome”
you’re only saying that because the men all think you’re an absolute primo twink and buy you drinks if you give them a kiss
“i don’t even have to kiss them, mostly. they just do that”
but it helps
“i am a slut for a rum and coke, i will not lie, and they are very handsome men. i am not ashamed to admit i know an attractive guy when i see one”
oh buddy if you’re not following me you should, if only for today, because we just had a conversation that has baffled the entire group chat in which we discovered he does not know that, in the society in which we live, generally speaking, pink is for girls and blue is for boys
TL;DR version: I have lately been a less-than-lovely human. Here is why.
**
It’s not quite over, but close enough. Enough to stick a premature stake in 2016 and obituarize the vicious bastard as a pureblood horribilis.
Race and gender atrocities, celebrities dropping like dominoes, wars a-warring, migrations a-miserying, hatred on the ballot. In the echo-chamber of friends and networks I choose as my keyhole on the universe, 2016’s been pre-marked for history as a temporal dumpster fire drenched in the walrus blubber of bloviating political villainy, waterboarded directly into our souls by slinking hysteria-vampires with press badges. Ding dong the witch is dead and all that jazz.
Not that there weren’t moments of delight. Unforgettable adventures, joyous weddings, personal successes. Adjust the lens even slightly and the year might be remembered as a wonderland with a few tolerably malignant shadows, not – as I’m afraid see it – a dead sea dotted with islands.
**
All of which, oh dear, is an unintentionally dramatic way of saying I want to talk about depression. Mine, actually
Words I never expected to write, there. This is not something I discuss.
For reasons I’ll come to, now’s the time. The black dog just won’t stay gone, and I can no longer ignore that whenever the obscene shit is actively gnawing on my brain I have the capacity to become an exceptionally cruel person.
