Tanya Davis – How To Be Alone
great video from: oblittw
I have issues about being polyamorous and alone.
Loving more than one person at the same time, with the knowledge and consent of my other lovers doesn’t guarantee that I’ll always have someone with me. I’ve loved people who have lived hundreds of miles away. My heart doesn’t comprehend the curvature of the Earth; how distance (and not owning a private jet) meant that in one of my relationships I only saw my lover in person twice in the nine months we were together. But those two weekends we enjoyed were amazing, and all the letters, phonecalls, postcards and emails that travelled between us meant that I rarely missed him. The relationship only ended when one of us stopped communicating. Poly and alone is one thing. Poly and silent is a whole other bag.
Poly to me, means that even when I’m 200 miles from my girlfriend, or when my boyfriend is asleep next door, I’ll sit on the sofa on my own and feel close to them. The times we are able to share together in the flesh means that when I’m alone I rarely feel lonely.
I feel lonely when I’m around bigoted people, especially when I have something in common with them. Being ignored, dismissed, or treated badly and no one backing me up is something I’ve experienced an awful lot, and it only adds to sense of isolation I feel. When I am told that I’m not a proper black by a black person, that I’m not a real woman by a feminist, that I’m sitting on some fence by a queer, I feel totally and utterly alone. I feel lonely because I feel that I’ll never belong. I’ll just be a little dot on a big spinning globe.
Christmas used to make me feel lonely too. Everyone I knew would trek off to their biological families, and I’d end up on my own. But something I realised is that I not only share my lovers with their lovers, but when it comes to time and energy, I share them with their relatives too.
Poly doesn’t mean living in a big house with twenty people. At least it doesn’t mean that to me anymore. Having a better relationship with myself first, and then with others is what’s important. So let me be poly and alone sometimes. It’s not the end of the world.
I use my real name when I write smut. I never want to hide a big chunk of myself away (small chunks are fine, but writing is a huge part of my life) so I am happy to have my full name used at the top of my stories. But as time passes, and my pay-the-bills job has becomes more treacherous, I find myself starting to have mixed feelings about things. I imagine a prospective employer typing my name into a search engine, and looking at what I do, what I love to write about.
I’m not ashamed, but I do try to be practical about things. This is hard when I know that as a black bisexual woman with a disability, I’ll already have prejudices and phobias stacked up against me before I even walk in the door for a job interview. I’d love to walk through said door feeling reasonably relaxed; that I won’t be a box-ticking exercise in equal opportunities, and that I’ll be hired because I’m a good worker who can demonstrate her skills in fifteen minutes of talking to strangers. I have never felt this way, especially when most interview panels consists of three people who are all white, usually all male. I’ve been prepared to lose out on jobs and promotions for the entirety of my working life. My writing erotic fiction is just one more thing to add to the list.
I cannot stop writing smut, and I don’t want to either. Writing is one of the things that increase the quality of my life. Writing is the reason why I’ve made most of the friends I currently have. Writing smut is activism that doesn’t make me gag.
This isn’t the end of it. A disabled woman wrote a review of one of my stories a few years ago. She said that she’d never seen someone like herself in an erotic story. She said that she started crying, because at long last she could identify with someone else who was going through the same thing she did. Another woman wrote me an email saying that one of my novellas gave her hope that she could accept all the different parts of herself. Hope through smut. I would never have thought anyone would have felt this way. Anyone but me that is. And this is the thing that I love. Writing, reading, and engaging with my readers gives me hope too. Hope doesn’t pay the bills, but it feels real good. It’s something positive to hold on to.
Klub Fukk comes to an end.
I’ve been attending this club off and on since it started. I will miss it when it goes. It is one of the few clubs where I feel very safe, no matter how little clothes I’ve got on. I’ve seen some amazing things there; a man dressed in a wombat suit being spanked, a woman surrounded by four friends and lovers, all bringing her to orgasm time after time. I’ve had a rope dress constructed on me, kissed people, made friends, watched cheesy films, and laughed at the crazy dancing. I wrote about the club in a story called, ‘Proximity’ which appears in Erotic Brits. Klub Fukk was never about posing in expensive corsets, or dodging the wanky man. Klub Fukk was about having lots of queer fun, where people played with each other regardless of gender or sexual orientation. It is the closest thing to Shortbus that I’ve ever experienced. It is unique.
The final Klub Fukk happens on Saturday 11th December. I plan to be there to help give it a good send off.
International Day to End Violence Against Sex Workers Reception hosted by SERTUC LGBT Network
Friday 17 December, 6:30pm
Venue: TUC Congress House, Great Russell St, London WC1B 3LS
– Speakers –
· John McDonnell MP (Labour Party)
· Maria Exall (TUC LGBT Committee Chair and member of the TUC General Council)
· Ana Lopez (Founder of the International Union of Sex Workers)
· Paul Hayes (GMB London Regional Secretary – invited)
· Caroline Simpson (SERTUC Women’s Rights Committee – invited)
· Speaker from X:talk
organised by GMB Sex Work & Adult Entertainment Branch
supported by GMB SHOUT! and EQUITY Thames Variety Branch
FREE ADMISSION – LIMITED SPACES
Refreshments & performances – ALL WELCOME!
Registration essential: firstname.lastname@example.org / 020 7467 1220