I had two life changing events happen to me recently and I thought I should post about them here. The first one was a kink convention I attended this weekend (Rocky Mountain Rebellion). The second was one of my classes (Love and Relationships).

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RMR was interesting because it gave me insight into kink communities. I won’t claim to be a part of them, as I have only gone to two kink events in my life. Despite being a small convention, there was representation from BDSM, leather, MS, pup play, pony play, pet play, age play, needle play, blood play, pain play, fucking machines, wands, shibari, suspension, and certainly a few other interests I’m forgetting in this list. I myself represented furries, even going to some events in suit. I found the community was very welcoming: several people smiled, some asked for hugs, and when it came up, everyone said they wished the furry fandom had more crossover with these events.

As journals are to be SFW, I won’t go into detail about what I did except to say I find sex positive spaces fascinating, especially kinks as a form of processing trauma. I will say I got to be suspended from a rope harness while in suit, which was great fun.

That being said, I don’t know how kinky I am. Rather, I think my kinks lay (lie?) elsewhere. Again, I won’t go into detail here. (You can probably figure out some of my kinks from my written works.)

I am very happy to note that I was able to talk about what I did that weekend to my family. I went about into the same level of detail as I do here. I’m so grateful I have a good enough relationship with them that I don’t have to hide things like this from them.

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My love and relationships class is essentially a modern view on intimate relationships as informed by every relevant area of study. We discuss the work of sociologists, anthropologists, psychologists, political scientists, neuroscientists — basically every “-ist” in the soft sciences you can think of comes up in this class.

The class has been very educational and engaging. The professor wants to teach the class — it’s her area of expertise — and it shows. She’ll show up every morning, ready to lecture in her flowing robes, spiked hair almost reminiscent of a sea urchin (I say that affectionately!). Without fail, she starts each class with at least five minutes of video from a Fleetwood Mac concert. Stevie and Lindsey are our class couple; we apply material from the readings and discussions to them. I’m starting to really like their music, perhaps because it is the first time I’ve learned about a song’s context beyond googling the lyrics.

The material itself is highly relevant, which helps keep everyone interested and invested in the class. The assignments rarely feel like busy work (no exams, thank goodness), usually requiring us to apply the material to our own lives or talk about it with someone else. Being autistic, I’m usually among the last to figure out things that come naturally to others, so being able to reverse that role in a small way has been satisfying.

In the most recent lecture, we talked about resolving conflict. The main focus was on giving oneself space to emotionally deactivate, as conflict resolution is hard when people are emotional. When things have cooled off, anything that increases empathy helps: be vulnerable, express how you felt, use active listening. While sitting in lecture, I experienced the sudden recollection of several visits to guidance counselors from when I was in elementary school. I chuckled at the insight that deep down, we’re just really complicated kids.

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That’s about all I have time for today. College is going well; we’re about 3/4ths of the way through the semester, so I anticipate we’ll start talking about final exams soon. I’ll try not to have too much fun (/s).

Things are going well for me socially. I don’t have a boyfriend, and I might be years from having one yet, but I’m nonetheless figuring out what I want in a relationship with some help from my friends (with benefits). Meanwhile, I’m taking time for self care, including seeing a therapist about twice a month and making time for myself to cook or otherwise do things I enjoy. I cannot overstate the importance of having a good connection with oneself.

I feel like I’ve finally arrived in adulthood. I’m 24 (“Almost 25!,” I insist, like a gradeschooler stretching his back for that extra inch before his mother marks his height on the wall), but I feel much farther from my 18-year-old self than six (“Seven!,” he shouts again) years can account for. It’s a good change, and I both am comfortable where I’m at and look forward eagerly to the person I know I will be.

I wish I had some witty remark to end this journal on, but I’ll just settle with wishing you all the best. Remember to love yourselves, you kinky fucks.

Arben