People in My Corner

It was so affirming to hear from my advisor this week:

Stripping is not an ethical issue. You’re not harming anyone.


No kidding!

And, another lovely part:

If you get any pushback from anyone around here, just use feminist language and they’ll back off. If you have any problems with people, just let me know. Especially if it’s a professor.


I had reached this place a couple weeks ago, of feeling like it really didn’t matter to me what my advisor was going to say to me about this potential ethical issue of dancing and being a therapist. Which itself felt great. And it also felt great, like a big awesome hug, to hear that.

Also, to have another fellow classmate disclose to me that she felt really good hearing me disclose my dancing experience because she has a history of doing it as well. And to have my advisor say that outing yourself is important in giving those marginalized communities a voice. If you can out yourself (and I can, in many ways, and have), then it can be such a powerful thing.

I have so many affirming and strong people who back me up, and I feel so lucky and so grateful to have them (you) in my life. Thank you.

A Good Fucking Never Hurts & Always Helps

After J and I saw “Breaking Through” we stopped off at our swingers’ club to meet up with a sexy friend. 

I think my blog post title really sums my feelings from the evening:
A Good Fucking Never Hurts & Always Helps.

Maybe that isn’t always true, but I think it might be (for me)!

It was just a sexy night. I rarely drink, but last night I got nice and buzzed and really felt like my inhibitions were lowered (not that I needed them to be- but it was still fun). My friend and I made out and groped each other, and after not too long, I took him into a room. Delicious oral sex, lots of coming, and lots of pounding ensued. It was so fun! And such a release, so cathartic.

And then coming home with J, and doing that again complete with dirty talking and my Hitachi. Sometimes I feel like my life is so delicious, it just makes me want to laugh and cry.

And then I wake up the next morning, after a kind of crappy day yesterday, and think to myself: I fucking got this. I am ME and I’ll do what feels right! And if it’s being a kick-ass therapist who has different ideas about sexuality and relationships and a different way of operating and a different environment she wants to work in, so be it. I got this.

Stripping, Counseling Ethics, and Personal Values

So I had a meeting with one of my professors to discuss the fact that I dance and my anxiety around coming out to my cohort during a class presentation next week. What ensued was a very kind conversation in which I unexpectedly cried, and agreed with a lot of things that she talked to me about- primarily the ethical dilemma I will face if and when I have a client that has seen me perform (and yes, perform naked- the sexuality of it is the key piece here).

I came home and immediately broke down (I had been holding in everything during a three hour class). J didn’t really know what to do with me. He held me and got angry and confused on my behalf. It was helpful.

And basically where I am at right now is this:

What feels more unethical to me is to perpetuate a system that sees sex, sexuality, and female sexual empowerment as sinful, dirty, slutty, and abhorrent. I will not not go to our swingers’ clubs or to nude beaches or to strip clubs or gay bars or poly gatherings or dance because of the possibility that I might run into future clients. I will not not live my life in some tiny little box when I have done so much to live in a vast, fluid, and dynamic world.

There is something quite different to me about having an intimate and loving relationship with someone while simultaneously expecting to fulfill a professional role in the mental health care of that person’s life. Knowing a client in other superficial ways are quite different to me than intentionally creating a confusing and complicated layered relationship with someone.

[The code of ethics for MFTs stipulates that you, as a therapist, must not have sex with a client. Okay. And to refrain from having sex with a previous client for at least two years after termination of the therapist-client relationship. Hm, okay. Seems arbitrary, but okay. And with regards to multiple relationships, the code states:

Marriage and family therapists are aware of their influential positions with respect to clients, and they avoid exploiting the trust and dependency of such persons. Therapists, therefore, make every effort to avoid conditions and multiple relationships with clients that could impair professional judgment or increase the risk of exploitation. Such relationships include, but are not limited to, business or close personal relationships with a client or the client’s immediate family. When the risk of impairment or exploitation exists due to conditions or multiple roles, therapists document the appropriate precautions taken. 

This is vague, and leaves a lot of gray area to be dealt with, and is in fact the basis for my ethics paper this semester- how to behave as a minority therapist seeking to work within minority communities (queer and poly, specifically). And this also relates to my potential multiple relationship with clients who could also be or were my customers in the strip club.]

My professor’s ethical dilemma example:
What if a couple comes to you for therapy, and one of the partners, let’s say the man, has seen you dance? What if you don’t realize it, but he does, and they continue coming to see you, and then his partner, a woman, finds out after a couple of months? What will that do to her?

My response during our meeting was: Yes, that’s really complicated. I hadn’t thought about that yet. That’s really complicated.

My response now:
If I were to realize when a new client walked in, I would be up-front about it, and offer to refer the person to another therapist. If I didn’t know right away, and the client realized later on and told me, I would refer the client to another therapist.

I am not about to further stigmatize or oppress my various sexual minority communities (queer, poly, sex worker) or myself by not allowing myself to be who I am in order to “protect” a client. This is life, and people deserve to live their lives. Including therapists. Including me.

Any readers out there who have had to navigate this in various ways? Please drop me a line :)

Consent, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism

J and I were at the nude beach in Maui back in May, and there was a couple that sneaked into the bushes above the beach and fucked. I don’t have a problem with public fucking (it gets me off, too)- I do have a problem with forcing other people to be around public fucking without their consent.

That’s why I think swingers’ and sex clubs are awesome- because everyone there has consented to being around sex.

And just tonight- J and I were supposed to meet a new couple via Skype. They had expressed wanting to have Skype sex, and J was clear in telling them, several times via email and text, that we were not that into Skype sex and that we preferred to just chat first. They called, we answered. They were naked. They told us they were just going to go for it anyway. Semi-shocked and open-mouthed, J and I said hi, turned off our microphone and video and let them fool around for a few minutes before they ended the call. (They ended up texting J later and admitting they were “off” and “it must be hard to deal with new couples”- ha!)

Again- I have no problem with Skype sex. I think it can be hot sometimes with the right people and right mood. But, taking advantage of a non-sexual space for your own desires (the phone call was supposed to be friendly, introductory, but not sexual yet), with the knowledge that not everyone around you is comfortable, or that people might not be, is not okay. It’s weird.

There was a great thread going on in our Open FB group today about public exposure of body parts and snapping pictures or video for personal use later. I would feel weird (and potentially violated) if I knew that a stranger had taken a picture of my crotch or my ass, or taken a video of me dancing, without my consent. So I wouldn’t do that to someone else. I would ask first (I would like to think that I would!)

While we were in Maui in May, I happened (oddly) to run into a customer of mine from work at the nude beach. He asked if he could take my picture for a fee. I told him Yes, but with my swimsuit on. He agreed. We took the photos. He gave me money. We were both happy. I think this is a great example of a consensual exchange of public exposure of one’s body for someone else’s personal use (in this case, photos) (not that money has to be involved of course).

What do you think? Does being in a public space change the terms of exposure and who can capture the exposure? What are ethical boundaries around exhibitionism and voyeurism within public spaces?