The Weird Belong - by Ami Mercury

So many of my PEP Callers ask: Do you ever talk to other people like me? Are there other people who like the same things I do?

While this question always paints a knowing smile upon my face, it also makes me a little sad—I guess because I understand how our kinks can sometimes isolate us. Upon discovering a new (or new to us) fetish, we often have feelings of self-consciousness, guilt, or disgust, and I am no exception. That experience is unfortunate, but not abnormal or rare.

I suppose people are worried that their fetishes make them weird. But I’ve always been of the belief that weird is somewhat subjective. What’s weird for one person is the next person’s typical Tuesday night, so I rarely find any fetish to be weird, or at least not any weirder than the next fetish.

I just have a hard time believing there are other people like me who are into this, that’s all.

That is another popular sentiment I hear. But in my experience, the kinkiest individuals are often wrapped in the least assuming packaging. It’s perhaps a bit cliché, but no less true, that looks can be deceiving. I cannot tell you how many times I have encountered people covered in tattoos and piercings, who dress to impress Marilyn Manson, and who sport hair that resembles an exploding Crayola box, who were absolutely horrified when I told them about the kinks that get me off. Meanwhile the more stereotypically “normal” looking people in the crowd often later approached me to ask, “Can you tell me more about that fetish?” Your fellow kinksters are just as likely to be your neighbor with the tall privacy fence, your grocery bagger who always has a colorful handkerchief sticking out of in his pocket, the high school band teacher who is mysteriously busy every weekend, or the librarian who is never seen without a turtleneck, as anyone else. You’ve probably never considered any of them to be out of the ordinary, or weird.

Still, I feel inclined to ask, even if your fetish does make you weird, is that really such a terrible thing? I get it, humans are social creatures and people who get labeled as “weird” are often ostracized. We all want to belong. But personally, I think weirdness is what moves us forward. At one point, virtually every human creation was new and probably considered “weird.” The prehistoric human who crawled out of his or her cave with this round object called a “wheel” was probably considered weird; people can’t seem to talk about Vincent Van Gogh without bringing up what a weirdo he was, too. I don’t know, maybe weirdness is just as crucial to the human experience as our desire for belonging.

When I say that I encourage people to “embrace their weird,” I mean it, I mean it emphatically, I really, really do. Weird is where I thrive. I am unapologetically weird. Whatever you’re into, I genuinely want to know about it. Not because I want mock or make fun of you, but because chances are, I understand it. And when I don’t understand, I will learn how. I want to participate in the joy of your kinks with you. I want us to bond in our beautiful and eclectic mutually shared weirdness. Don’t worry: Whatever it is, you’re not going to upset me. I doubt you’ll freak me out, either. Offending me is pretty challenging, too. While I love a good power-exchange, the power to control my peace of mind is not something I easily hand over.

PEP Lover, tell me, show me what you’re into. Let’s get weird together.