Femininomenon
Current state of the union.
I’ve never celebrated New Year's with friends or lovers as the glittering ball drops from high above Times Square. While I cherish any excuse to don a delicate dress and toast to life, my New Year's celebration is always in August, on the nineteenth—my birthday. This year, however, the tide is turning, and I am deeply grateful to witness this new wave.
The summer has washed over me, melting from May into July with sweet moments sprinkled in between. As I navigate daily tasks and embrace life’s spontaneity—sometimes through what we might call “brat summer” antics—I’ve been reflecting on the changes this year has brought. I’m thankful that these coping mechanisms, while still maladaptive, are now confined to nights out and spontaneous shopping trips to vintage stores. In the end, they’re merely procrastination from the looming anxiety of tasks I must accomplish—tasks I cannot afford to fuck up.
Many times in my career, I’ve been asked, “Who Dommes the Domme?” While the answer is clear from my diagnoses and life experiences, I wish it weren’t so. No one can Domme the Domme but the Domme Herself. This, along with so many other harsh truths about the human condition, often reminds me of our tendency to be our own greatest critics and sources of limitation. Each time I delve into these realities, I return to the concept of shame—a powerful force that subtly influences human action and history every moment of the day.
Today, I’m keeping our encounter brief to introduce a new series I’d like to explore: the role of shame as a tool of white supremacy and patriarchy in Western society. I’ll be examining this through the lens of intersectional feminism and BDSM, as well as from the perspective of an artist who deeply believes in the importance of every individual finding their purpose and passion without shame or restriction. The future is arriving, and it promises to be a femininomenon. As always, I’m grateful to have you here.