thoughtnstuffs - Thoughts and Stuff from thingnstuffs

 OR Reflection on the Past Year, But in Blog Form   The final hours of 2024 are winding down, but over the past few days I’ve been reflecting on the past year and what’s ahead.   Is it bad that I don’t know quite what to make of it? For most of the past year I served as my area’s local titleholder, a topic that I’ve already expounded upon enough so I’ll do my best not to tread too much old ground. Funnily enough I looked back on my posts over the past year as part of my processing.   The charitable would call it vulnerability. The cynical would call it whining. And this duality in particular has been on my mind as I’ve been closing out the year. I’ve met a lot of great people over the past 365 days, and continued developing relationships with those I had already known. I know that I should be grateful for what I’ve been able to experience and accomplish over the past year. And make no mistake, I definitely am. But there’s something about it that feels bittersweet, or...

  OR Growing Pains Aren’t Sexy “You truly serve as an inspiration to younger leather enthusiasts who may feel too young to hold a title! Your example demonstrates that age is not a barrier, empowering them to pursue their dreams.” This was a quote from a close friend of mine. It’s incredibly flattering from a Leatherman of his caliber. Yet, despite knowing full well that I should believe every single word, I… don’t.  I just don’t see it.  It’s this quote that I feel best sums up the complicated relationship I have with my “presence” as a titleholder. Sure, there is no denying that I am on that stage at IML 46, I have pictures and the damn medallion to prove it. And yet what dominoes have been toppled since I took those steps onto that stage? Who am I really empowering here? It’s not a victory lap, more a single brick and what feels like a thin veneer of mortar. I still think that I have much more to go before I can really settle with such potent verbiage.  I just fee...

  OR What Even IS a Titleholder Anyway? “Over the years I've found the titleholders who have the most longevity and impact are those who do the work in the background for years before stepping onto the stage. Of course there are exceptions but I would advise anyone seeking a title to take the time to learn who you are as a BDSM player/activist/contributor long before running for a title.”   I came across this quote in the comments section of a Facebook post with possibly the worst timing imaginable: the night before my IML interview. But this was not the first time that I’d come across such sentiments. As alluded to previously, in the mix of the many flavors of encouragement came those “hard hitting questions:” what clubs are you part of, what do you do for the community, so on and so forth. These really aren’t particularly controversial, by any means, and yet they never failed to produce some gut churning in me. Because truth be told, sure I was part of a few clubs, been to a...

OR Oh God Not This Again “You’ve done a lot for someone your age.” The opening line to an interview often can be considered a tone setter, especially when standing in front of folks you have very little experience with. And that quote was the opening line to my IML interview.  I don’t think I ever really acknowledged this anywhere, but I felt a bit… I don’t know, rubbed the wrong way is a bit too strong for the emotions I was feeling at the time, perhaps only intensified in hindsight by how the rest of the contest would go for me, but enough about that. As I said, an opening question can be telling, and I’ll admit that I wasn’t sure that I really liked what I was being told. Knowing there were at least one (and possibly two) full on IML winners that were close to me in age in the contest’s history, it felt strange to hear that particular aspect of my journey thus far brought up. But perhaps I was simply just getting what I’ve been asking for.  I never shut up about my age. It’...

OR That Age Old Question Every Potential Titleholder Asks The following is the first of a series of 4… let’s call them “essays” reflecting on my past year as a titleholder, divided up into different topics. Although as a bit of a warning, to say that these topics truly exist in isolation from one another in such a way where each essay (or diatribe, whichever you prefer, really) will maintain full focus on that aspect and THAT aspect alone is a bit of an oversimplification. They aren’t topics so much as they’re multiple strands of twine, jumbled up in a heap where tugging on one will inadvertently bring a section of the heap with it. Streams of consciousness (the academic term for rambling) is to be expected, and to be braced for. I’ll do my best to give whatever new material circumstances that have come as a result of this past year a fair shake, but do be advised, it is well within reason (in my unreasonable mind at least) that I will have blind spots, unturned stones, whatever you wa...

  OR Where Are the Youngins? I have very complicated feelings towards an event that at one point was a fascination of mine. I knew about it before I could even legally drive, and wanted so badly to attend someday. It had everything I could hope for: cigars, leather, big hairy men, a weekend celebrating more masculine pursuits. It was alluring for a young, skinny, somewhat nerdy shut-in. In 2023 I got that chance, and, well, I left somehow more lost than I was upon arrival, with a prolonged downward spiral playing out for at bare minimum weeks; it followed me from my hotel room to the airport and back home. But why? Let’s first check a bit of my ego at the door: expectations are the thieves of joy. I’ll admit I was hoping to get at least a bit of action in Vegas that weekend, and I certainly got a bit, including with a man that was both a crush of mine for the longest time and the first Leatherman I ever talked to. But events like these aren’t just about the sort of mischief one can...