A Community Broken

I’m tired. I’m frustrated. Sometimes, I’m angry. I’m all these things because I’m watching a community tear itself apart, doing it at a time when we need most to come together. Something that used to give me hope and a sense of belonging somewhere has become a patchwork of divided subsets, fenced off and fearfully guarded. Something I used to take such joy and pride being part of has left me wondering where the joy and pride have gone.

I’ll say it: we aren’t a community any more. If we were, we’d be building each other up, supporting each other through the rough times and celebrating each other’s triumphs. But we’re not. We spend more time tearing each other down, jealous of other’s successes. If we were a community, we’d talk to each other, share experiences, and learn from each other. But we don’t. We shout at each other, try to drown out other opinions and perspectives, and trumpet our own experiences as the most viable. If we were a community, we’d listen to each other to understand our differences and find the common ground that works for all of us. But we aren’t a community. We shut out what others say if it conflicts with our worldview and shout at each other; common ground has become the no-man’s land on a battlefront of social discourse.

So what happened?

When I first discovered the leather community (and with it the kink and BDSM communities that co-exist alongside and within it), it was the most amazing circle of support and brother/sisterhood I’d ever encountered. Here was a place where people were welcomed because they were different from the mainstream. Here was a place that celebrated all those things that made us different – and encouraged us to explore them. Here was a place where we could let down our guard against the outside world and be who we are. Here was a community built on the legacy of what had been handed down to it through the years. In DC alone we had close to 10 different clubs, all working together for the community as a whole, and that number grew drastically throughout the Mid-Atlantic and New England areas where clubs throughout those regions came together under one council to coordinate different events and goings-on.

And it was still even more than that. It was a community where people looked out for each other. If someone needed help, a leather brother or sister was there. We built our own organizations toward the goal of helping those who needed a hand. We shared our experiences with those who wanted to learn, and we learned from those who had so much to teach. We talked among ourselves. We stood together against challenges posed us from the outside world and those who would demonize us as perverts and whatever other labels they tried to attach to us. We knew who we were.

Now it feels like so much of that is gone. Where did it go? Why does it seem we have lost our way?

I ask those questions as I look back, and I see something key missing: respect. The respect that held this community together has been worn down and eroded like rock columns in a floodtide. Now the whole structure it once supported is now teetering dangerously. How can you have a strong community when disrespect for the people within it and for the traditions it’s built upon has become so rampant? Quite simply, you can’t.

However, we can have that. There is absolutely no valid reason why the degradation of it has to continue if we care enough to do what needs to be done.

We need to treat each other with respect. We can disagree where we will on those things where our opinions and feelings differ – but there is room in this community for a tremendously large number of differences. What needs to stop is the shouting AT each other, replacing it with talking TO each other – and taking the time to stop talking at all and listen to what others are saying. Treating others respect also means being responsible for ourselves, for our words and for our actions. We need to think about what we say before we say it. Once the words are out, they cannot be taken back. It means accepting that their thoughts and ideas are just as valid as our own.

We need to respect that ours is a world that brings with it traditions – and to respect that tradition does not equate to law. They exist, whether we like or want them or not. Traditions evolve and adapt as they are passed down. It’s inevitable. There is room in this community for all manner of application when it comes to tradition. No one should be dismissing how others apply them within their own lives and relationships.

We have to respect that we are more diverse now than ever before. By respecting that fact, we give strength to those common bonds that bring us together. It also means respecting that not everyone or every subset within the community faces the same problems and challenges. Again, it comes down to listening to each other to understand those different challenges. If we’re going to call ourselves brothers and sisters and anything in between, then we have to stand together to beat those challenges, not divide ourselves into small clusters where no progress will ever be made.

Deep down, I still believe in our community, its potential, and its future. I believe in it because – as I learned when I first came into it – I’m not alone. I’m not the only one who thinks we have something worth building and preserving. But to get there, we have to stop this in-fighting. We have to learn to work through and accept our differences, not berate and despise one another for them. This has to stop being “Us vs Them” or “me vs everyone else.” We’re in this together!

If we’re going to call ourselves a community, we need to return to acting like one. There are enough on the outside who would like nothing better than to see all of what we are implode. Why are we helping them?

Growing Pains

There is a lot that has been happening within the pup and handler community, a lot that really reflects on just how much it has grown in just a relatively short time.  A number of recent discussions, some in which I was involved and others I merely observed readily prove that. Questions are being asked and answered, ideas discussed and traded. Arguments, constructive and otherwise, are happening as passion meets conflicting ideas and the drive to further assert identity is further fueled. At times it can seem almost too much at once to take in, even for those of us within the community – and can be downright confusing to those on the outside looking in.

However, no growth process is without its trials and pangs. From the moment of birth through eventual maturity, there is an endless series of bumps and falls, trials and tribulations, bruises and healing. In this regard, the pup and handler community is no different from any other that’s come before us. From the earliest days of leather down to contemporary fetish and kink, all have endured the same overall growth and the challenges that went with it. Name any one group within the broader leather/kink/fetish community, then look at the history. It’s there.

In thinking about this and in equating the growth process as a continuum beginning with its birth, I think it’s fair to say the pup and handler community has entered its adolescence. I will, of course, expound further on this. First, however, let me make a couple of points clear. To begin with, none of what follows should be construed to judge, implicitly or explicitly, that any particular thing we do is either right or wrong. Those discussions and disagreements are part of where we are in our growth, and this is in no way intended to either validate or vilify the beliefs and practices within the community. Secondly, I do have more than a passing background in psychology, with emphasis on developmental psychology. As such, I applied practical ideas and concepts to my thinking. Lastly, combining the first two, I don’t purport or believe myself to be any kind of expert on the overall pup and handler community. It is much too wide and varied, regionally and worldwide, for any to make such a claim. I’m just one pup sharing his ideas.

So, why would I say the contemporary pup and handler community has reached its adolescence? For starters, I use the qualifier “contemporary” to keep this focused on its emergence within the broader leather/kink/fetish community. Pups and pup play have been around for decades, even centuries. The pup and handler community as we know it today, however, only goes back a few years, about a decade or so (the first International Puppy was in 2001). That’s where you see the beginnings of what we have today in terms of clubs and organizations, networks and families built around pup-centric norms. So we’re still the new kids on the block when looked at as part of the cross-section of the broader community.
Before I go any further, I just want to point out that I say “we” because I’m part of it, one among many, and I’ve done a lot of things that this describes myself. It’s only been in looking back that I got a new understanding out of all of it.

Like all others before us, we had our infancy. We grew from something that came before us, in this case the leather/kink/fetish community. In some ways, one could make the case that they are the “parent” figure in this model. We had to learn our way in a world that was already there, akin to learning to walk (two steps and then a dead run). We bumped into things along the way, sometimes fell because we didn’t know any better. We had those that were there and willing to help, trying to guide us (some of whom we call packbrothers and sisters but were also part of what was already there). We had to endure a lot of “Oh, aren’t they cute” as we went. The tail pulls…how much they seemed at the beginning like the stranger or relative we see rarely making silly and/or annoying goo-goo faces.

We had our childhood years. For a good span, the focus was mainly on pup play and having fun. Cute gave way to sometimes being watched with smiles and encouraging laughter, sometimes with disapproving glares. We got upbraided by our "parent" for certain misbehaviors, and sometimes we even got petulant in our responses. We were sure we could ride that bike without training wheels for the first time, then wonder what the hell happened when we fell. But others were there to help us dust ourselves off, bandage the scrapes and get back on that thing so we could keep going. Then we put cards in the spokes even though some thought it annoying. Still, for the most part, we were glad that the broader community "parent" was there – we still weren’t quite ready to make our part of the world our own just yet. We hated the rules sometimes, even told the “parent” that we hated them or thought they were stupid. But we weren’t really challenging them yet.

Now we are. Now more than ever we are at that place where we’re working, sometimes even struggling, to define and assert our own identity. Now we’re at the place where we are taking things that were in the world we’ve come into and trying to adapt them to fit our emerging world-view. Now we’re looking at the concepts and traditions that have come before and defining where they fit into our emerging sense of self – if they even fit at all. We don’t want to ride the bike anymore. We want the keys to the fucking car so we can go out and have a good time!
And now we’re at that place where we are absolutely convinced that the “parent” can’t possibly understand what we’re going through. We’re convinced that all they want to do is rein us in and ruin our lives. We don’t want to be treated like little kids because we aren’t kids any longer. We’re adults now, damn it, and we’re going to prove it! At times, it goes to the extreme of outright rebellion against the rules and limits the “parent” has set out – in this case those traditions and norms associated with the leather/fetish/kink community. We don’t want limits; we want to explore and discover for ourselves! We don’t want to sit at the kids’ table at holiday dinners (think events). We’re grown up now and want to be with the adults. Dammit, we ARE adults, right? They can’t tell us how to run our lives, right?

Like most adolescents, we want to be independent of the “parent.” We want to be free to live our own life and do our own thing. We don’t want to be looked down on as petulant adolescents; we want to be accepted and treated as equals.

And, you know what? This is actually completely normal. There’s not a single thing wrong with any of this or feeling like we do. It’s all part of the growth and maturing process. It cannot be argued that the contemporary pup and handler community has come a long way. We’ve grown in size. We've grown in experience. We’re beginning to define and establish a self-identity as a community. We’re challenging ideas and boundaries as we begin to assert that identity.

In going with this reasoning, let’s also take a look at it from the “parent” point of view. How can they understand us if they don’t feel like we do? The thing we forget is that they have felt and do feel like we do. They’ve been where we are. Some may have forgotten that, but it’s nearly universally true. There isn’t a single one of us who came into the community knowing everything about it. Individuals and groups alike, we were all new to this community once. Everything we’re enduring, others endured before us. The learning and the exploring, the self-discovery and identifying, the rules and the limits and what they meant at the individual level. Every section of the broader community that came before us faced these same trials and growing pains – and all have emerged with a strong sense of self identity and a firm idea of their place within the whole (which is not to say they are without current challenges and difficulties – many remain).

No one likes being made to feel they’re being looked down on. It’s an uncomfortable feeling at best. If it continues too long, it breeds anger and resentment. Very rarely does it leave an opening for truly constructive conversation. The paradox of equal footing, however, is that it has to be earned but the process of earning it slows itself and gets bogged down by frustration. It can become a self-defeating cycle if unchecked.

Fortunately, we have it within ourselves to check it. It takes only three things: respect (both for oneself and for others), two-way communication, and an open mind. These aren't merely suggestions or goals, they’re imperatives. All three of these are absolutely necessary to get through this period of growth and change and reach that point where differences are more widely respected than refuted. When communicating, it’s not just about what we have to say. It’s about listening to what others are saying and being open-minded enough to maturely discuss the differences. It’s not just defending a point of view, but accepting that there is room for many times many points of view.

And lastly, of course, if we keep with the idea that while we, as a community, may very well be in our adolescence, those of us in it are adults. That’s where we can run into the problems that arise among us and between us and the broader community. While it’s perfectly normal for an adolescent to endure and feel all those things I have described, as adults we can’t expect to continually act out along those lines and not be called on it. Whether we like it or not, we are adults in an adult world that has expectations and established norms for acceptable behavior. Being adults, we’re expected to – and should – act like adults.

We, the pup and handler community, want very much to be seen for who and what we are, not defined by what others believe we are. The number and intensity of ongoing discussions and activities shows that. We can and will achieve that, but we have to remember also that – even as we are building things unique to us, we’ve also adopted a number of practices and symbols that were there before us and are working to adapt them to our world-view. That won’t happen without disagreement and misunderstanding. That we’re doing this in an age of social media, an arena that’s far more transparent than any before us, it all stands out even more. Those looking in see more, and in doing so, may understand less. However, it’s really on us to help them understand what we’re building. It’s on us to explain those things that are unique to us and to show that we do respect the value of those traditions we’re adapting. To show that we’re not discarding or disrespecting them but are finding a way to make them important to us. We can be the mature entity we’re struggling to convince others that we are. We don’t have to shove aside those who came before us. We have to show we’re determined to take our place beside them.


We, the "parent" play a part in this as well. We have to remember that the pup and handler community, being newer and demographically younger, hasn't experienced the same world we did earlier on. The pup and handler community grew in a different environment that has done much in setting the values and ideals it holds close. The people in the pup and handler community don't always feel the same as those in the "parent" community - and telling them they should will only increase the hostility and rebellion. Gone are the days when the child can be sent to their room or the adolescent grounded from going out. The situation cannot be corrected through punishment. Now it takes understanding - and that includes understanding that the pup and handler community is establishing its unique self-identity. The "parent" can only teach what has come before, it cannot dictate how those lessons are applied.

Overall, that is the transition from adolescence to adulthood. It takes all of us to achieve that. And it doesn’t change the fact that the world isn’t a fully friendly place, that there are just as many challenges before us as there are behind us. But at least we don’t have to face them in endless conflict.

Is it an easy transition? Not even close. Is it frustrating? Sometimes beyond words. There are times we’ve all felt like we’re beating our heads against a glass door. The question I’m posing here though: Do we keep running into that door with our eyes and ears closed and then blaming others for the bloody nose, or do we talk to the people on the other side of the glass and eventually open the door?

A Community of People

Something has been troubling me lately, a gnawing feeling that rests in the pit of my stomach. Nebulous thoughts that remain in the back of my mind, defying all efforts to be put into words. It’s not so much a new feeling, but rather one that’s been growing for awhile. The more I’ve tried to grasp it and explore it, the more the feeling grew without clarity, leaving me unable to translate it into clear thought.

However, through happenstance and the unexpected, it finally came together. Mainly via unrelated comments and conversations, peripheral incidents, and other thoughts of my own that seemed unconnected. It took stepping back and almost taking the role of an outsider looking in to finally bring it all together into one question:

When did the leather and kink community lose its focus on people?

Let me say right now, right up front, that this is not an attack on those various aspects and facets of our community that give it depth and character. This isn’t a tirade against contests and titleholders. It’s not a statement that the issues facing our community or segments within it are without substance or merit. This isn’t to detract from those relationships and lifestyles that have come to be characteristic of our community. This isn’t to diminish or dismiss the traditions that have come down through the years and lend depth and perspective to who we are.

By no means is this a statement that I’m in any way an expert on the leather and kink community. Far from it. I’m just one pup in a big world whose experiences and understanding are only a very small part in a huge mosaic. However, mine isn’t the only voice saying that things have changed, and not necessarily for the better.

When I first began to explore the leather/kink community back in 2002, one of my earliest encounters was with a small group of men who belonged to a group called the DC boys of Leather. I remember watching how they interacted with each other, the fun they were having being themselves, doing what they were doing. I remember how one of them, seeing my interest, came up and talked to me and took the time to introduce me to his club-brothers and friends. I remember how captivated I was by the brotherhood these guys had amongst them. It didn’t take me long to realize here were kindred spirits, that the DC boys of Leather was something I wanted to be part of.

It didn’t take long after joining the DC boys that I learned that same sense of brotherhood I sensed there was shared far more widely. Other people and other clubs were part of that same community, sharing and enjoying many of the same things, learning from one another, sharing not just experiences and knowledge, but true brotherhood and fun.

That’s what drew me into the community. The brotherhood and the fun. Kinky play and sex, as much as I enjoy them, quickly became secondary to that foundation. To this day, even though I’ve had fun and good times nearly every step of the way, those early days remain my fondest memories. Yes, I’m a former titleholder (and back then I held many titleholders in awe), but that wasn’t why I chose to be part of the community. It was the friendships with men and women I came to call brothers and sisters.  It was about the camaraderie and brotherhood that brought us all together. It was about being part of something that was greater than myself and thrived because we all came together.

It was about the people.

But now, something has changed. The community has changed. I have changed. I know it can’t all be for the better because I look at myself and realize I don’t like some of the things I see now. I look around me and see, not that empowering brotherhood, but division and hostility. Where there used to be sharing of ideas and experiences, I look around now and see angry debate and close-minded dismissal. Where there used to be cooperation toward the betterment of all, I see so much close-minded dismissal and bitterness.

Where it used to be about FUN, it’s becoming an arena where a light-hearted banter ends up with tempers flared and teeth bared.

Where it used to be about acceptance, it’s becoming a cycle of Us vs Them. The hate and vitriol has taken on a frightening life of its own, to the point that we’re becoming our own worst enemy.

Where it used to be about people, it’s becoming more and more about tearing people down. Brotherhood has given way to clusters of circled wagons and a cross-fire of unyielding ideals. Those fields where fertile exchange lead to growth almost seem to be becoming fewer and fewer.

What’s scary is that many of us don’t even realize we’ve played a part in this. In looking at myself, I see that I’ve made bad choices, done and said things that became part of these cycles. I see them now, and I confess myself ashamed. All I’ve ever wanted is to contribute to and build a stronger community – but some of my words and actions had the opposite effect. Now I’m choosing to accept responsibility for those actions and choices. More importantly, I’m seeing I have to move beyond them and be that person in whom I can take pride.

I wish I could say definitively where things began to change. I can’t. In looking only at my own experience, all I can see clearly is that where I was and where I am are vastly different.  Ultimately, any such exercise would likely be futile. Most likely, it’s been a number of seemingly minor things with perhaps a few major turning points here and there. And maybe it doesn’t have to matter where it changed. It’s enough to recognize that things have and that we have the power within us to make a difference.

What matters is that we’re a community, and community is made up of people. No two of us are exactly alike. We all have our own perspectives and personalities, our own experiences. We all have our likes and dislikes. No, we are not all going to agree on everything; there is no kumbaya moment to be had. But it doesn’t follow that we have to keep tearing each other down, dismissing as lesser someone just because they’re different from ourselves. Difference and disagreement are no justification for disrespect and bitter disregard. We’re all equal, and we’re all in this together.

This can’t be about waiting for others to change. All that accomplishes is the continuation and further degradation. We can’t force others to change. The only people we can change is ourselves, and it has to start there.  

I wasn’t there in the earliest days of leather. Anything I know about those days has come to me through stories and shared experiences. From those I’ve been given to understand that part of what propelled the leather culture forward was the brotherhood and the fun that came with it. I know from those days come many of the traditions that, today, many hold to be central to who we are.

What I do know is that the past, and the traditions we’ve built on the brotherhood that comes from it, won’t mean a thing if we don’t have a future.

Farewell 2015, Hello 2016

Another year draws down to its final hours. Soon, 2015 will be another for the history books. Can’t say, though, that I’m sorry to see this one go. In the measure of calendar years, 2015 was one of the hardest in my adult life. It began with conflict; it ends having seen some very difficult, very deeply-felt losses. I won’t deny there were some highs in 2015 as well, or that I was fortunate enough to be part of things that are truly wonderful and that I got to meet some awesome new friends along the way while enjoying time with old ones.

 

I had to say farewell to my younger brother, so suddenly gone from this world. For all our differences and disagreements, for all those fights that only brothers can get into, I miss him. Fortunately, the good memories far outnumber the bad, and those are what I carry with me into the new year. However, I also carry some poignant lessons, and the one I’ll share here is this: Don’t put off time with family. If I hadn’t listened to my mom and my husband and agreed to a short visit to upstate NY in July, I would have missed one last visit with my brother. One month later, he was gone.

It’s somehow ironic that in that last conversation, he said something that turned out to be what I needed to begin the slow healing from a loss that preceded his passing. However, that earlier loss – and a third that came later – I haven’t talked about openly. Much of it I still won’t.

I spent a lot of this past year in quiet inner turmoil (and, yes, sometimes it was neither entirely quiet nor inward, but I’m human and sometimes our emotions get the best of us). Time spent blaming myself; time lost to anger and hurt. Time spent trying to comprehend things that happened; time lost to believing I wasn’t good enough. Time spent realizing mistakes I’ve made; time lost to recognizing not all the mistakes made were mine.

I’m not ashamed to admit I reached a point where I felt completely beaten. I just wanted to pull away from everything. Just crawl into my cage and lick my wounds. In retrospect, I see that, to some degree, I did pull away. I know now that I had to.

It was the only way I could hear that quiet bark still inside, one I’d forgotten how to hear. It was the only way I could find what my brother was reminding me of; the only way I could see again that lesson in balance that a particular young man has a way of showing me. It was the only way I could find within that strength to stand up again, to begin believing in myself again, and to see past the shadows to all those positive things which brighten my life. Maybe I was beaten – that doesn’t mean I was defeated.

How could I be? This year I became an executive producer of the International Puppy Contest. I got to be part of community pack history as IPC got the first female pup titleholder (yay Incus!). One of my own dreams came to fruition with the first Mid-Atlantic Puppy & Handler Contest. I was nominated for this region’s Pantheon of Leather award (well deserved, Todd!).

More than that, though, my husband, my family (bio and chosen) and my friends with whom I have shared so much – and will still share so much. Even through all that darkness, I never forgot you were all there, and you all helped me through it. Through all of you, I found my way back. And for that, there are not enough words to express how grateful I feel.

It's not all ended yet, I know that. But I know it's not all darkness and struggle now. It's accepting what is, learning from it, and moving forward. 2016 is going to have some rough spots. But, ya know, overall it’s looking pretty good.

So, to 2015, I'll borrow the title of the last episode of MASH: Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen.

to 2016: Here's to another 365 days of things to learn. 365 days of fun with friends and family. 365 days of living life to the fullest.

Happy New Year to All of You!

Applying a Lesson in Progress...

I want to start off by apologizing for letting things slide with the Pupping Out Project since this past summer. I had hoped and intended to launch a new series of interviews with interested pups and handlers that could be shared with the community, an initiative that will span several months and hopefully get a lot of personal stories out there.  At first I was kind of embarrassed that I’d let things slide so much. Yes, real-life needs and circumstances demanded a lot of time and attention. Still, though, I felt like I was failing in something that’s actually very important to me. And, in that light, I wasn’t sure how to re-ignite it.

But, then, I realized that something was happening that is actually very prevalent to what the Pupping Out Project was created for: sharing our experiences so that they might help someone else out there. This isn’t a “coming out of the kennel” experience. I’ve shared my own story on that already. However, it is one I know I’m not alone in experiencing; a difficulty that I’ve personally heard other pups talk about.

I had lost that feeling of connection to my inner pup. I don’t know how or when it began to happen. Likely, I never will. Somehow though, I started to become afraid of going to that place within where once I needed no coaxing at all to reach. It was only through a storm of change that I even began to realize I felt it was missing, that I’d cut myself off from it. Without it, I wasn’t centered or balanced mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Without it, I was trying to hobble forward on one leg as if I still had two. In that light, it’s really no wonder that I wasn’t getting very far.

The only reason I didn’t fall flat on my snout is that I was never really alone. And, while that’s another story, how important it is to this one cannot be understated. I say that because part of the realization came through those I call friends and family, some of whom I’m connected to more via social media than through in-person contact.

Yet now, as it reawakens, I feel more like the playful pup, more like the person who knows he’s part of something greater than himself. I’m beginning to feel centered again. I’ve actually begun to understand even better what being a pup means to me. It’s not the sum total of who or what I am as a person; it’s far more a part of my core that I realized, touching many aspects of my daily life.

I appreciate better the nature of that inner pup: a service Alpha pup. Maybe it’s odd that I would lose sight of that. It’s where my journey as a pup began (well, not necessarily an alpha, but definitely a service pup). By the same token, though, that nature has grown. In the past, it was in service to my former Mister. Today, I’m a stray, but the potential for fulfillment as a service pup is no less. In the past, I explored my dominant side. Today, I’m learning that it was never about trying to separate the pup and that dominant-oriented energy, but rather allowing it all to meld together. Then and now, it wasn’t supposed to be about extremes, but accepting it all as part of the whole package.

It’s been learning that, while in everything I do I try to give my best, the best I have to give comes when I’m connected to and grounded by that inner pup.

A Thought for Thanksgiving

“So, what are you thankful for this year?”

I have to be honest, that question has kind of thrown me this year. It isn’t that I’m an ingrate, or that life hasn’t brought me things for which I should be grateful. Overall, my life is pretty rich, and I’m thankful for all that has made it that way. At the risk of sounding like I’m spouting platitudes, I am grateful beyond words to still be with my wonderful husband, that I have a warm and caring family, that I have a job and my health, that I have been given opportunities to serve and be part of the community. Words can’t adequately express how lucky I feel for all of that.

Yet, I’d be remiss if I didn’t reflect another way as well. This year, particularly the second half of it, has been a time of some deeply-felt loss. Two collars given by me with love sit now in my drawer. I had to bid farewell to my younger brother, gone suddenly from this world. A lot over a relatively short period of time. I don’t pretend to believe I’ve bounced all the way back; the scars and the sadness are still fairly fresh. Yes, I pulled back from many things for a time recently. Sometimes, it’s just what has to be done, the only thing that can be done, to again move forward.

What does this have to do with being grateful? Am I grateful for the actual loss? Of course not.

I’m VERY grateful I listened to my Mom and to my husband, who talked me into a summer trip to upstate NY – it turned out to be the last time I saw Bobby before he passed. Something I haven’t shared with anyone, though, was that he looked right at me and said, “You’re not very happy.” He didn’t ask why; I told him only a little. Once he knew things were fine between me and Ken, he just shrugged and said to just bark, that I’d feel better.

I didn’t realize it then, but he was reminding me of what I needed to remember. It wasn’t until after he was gone that I really reflected on that and so many other things. Maybe he saw what I wasn’t seeing; that I’d lost my center. That one comment, made playfully and maybe even a little off-handedly, ended up resonating deeply, and I’ve thought on it quite a bit since then.

Meaning to or not, he pointed me toward embracing that one part I needed to re-embrace, the part I was always afraid to embrace when things got dark. And, while it took me a while to understand that, now I get it.

And, now, the next part of the journey begins. Where at first I thought it a retreating or going back, I see now it's a re-awakening to something new yet familiar...

Bobby, I probably didn’t say thank you enough. And sometimes you didn’t hear me when I did. Wherever you are now, though, I know you can hear this one: THANK YOU!

*BARK*

Harvesting the Soul at Mabon

While this Sabbat of Mabon denotes the start of the harvest, It's also symbolic of clearing the fields in preparation of the Spring planting to come. So, in that spirit, I can only reap what has sprung from the seeds I planted and hope that the intentions in the seeds I am about to plant anew fare better in the future.

From my very earliest days in this community, I've always felt it was home. Here I found a place where I could belong; a place where I can be me and explore the potentials and possibilities of what may come from that. I found, not just friends, but family and kindred spirits. People who accepted me and encourage me to accept myself and to embrace those things that make me different. People with whom I could celebrate those differences rather than be ashamed of them.

From the very beginning I've been fortunate enough to have wise and caring people to teach me those things that have come before while encouraging me to balance those things with new ideas. Friends and mentors who have, time and again, encouraged me to walk and to share my own journey, to have faith that it's leading me to where I'm meant to be. No matter who I met or where I went, I found there was always something for me to learn, something new to experience.

I'm not sure I could ever fully quantify all that I've been given over the years. These gifts are greater than anything I've ever known, gifts beyond price and far more than I would have ever expected when first I ventured into the community. My journey has been made possible through these gifts. It means far, far more than I can say, and all the gratitude I feel in my heart seems still insufficient to do it all justice. Nevertheless, I am immensely grateful for all I have been given, all I've found, and for all the things in which I've been fortunate enough to share.

I learned long ago that the best things come about when it's a collective effort. One alone can never accomplish as much as a team or club or group working together. I've been fortunate enough to be a part of clubs and groups that have brought forth amazing things for the community. Nearly all of my greatest joy has been working with others toward a common goal; my greatest rewards seeing others enjoy what the group put together. What better feeling than to celebrate a job well done with friends and brothers?

While growing up, I was taught that the most important gesture of gratitude is in sharing what you've been given. To say "thank you" for a gift, while heartfelt, may fall flat. But to take what's been given and to share it or to pay it forward, that shows true appreciation. A gift kept to one's self does little more than collect dust on a shelf. A gift shared with others and, in its time passed on to others, keeps its luster and brings joy to more than just one.

That is how I've tried to carry myself since finding a place in this community. From very early on I've tried and endeavored to share all that I've been given. From slave to leatherboy to pup, from sub to switch, it has always been to me about giving back. Every gesture and thing shared with me, I've believed I've been grateful to received it. Every door that was opened, every opportunity given, I've always thought it important to make sure those are paid forward. I've always tried to put my best foot forward and to give things my best. Those things into which I put my energy and effort weren't meant for me, but to give something to others. At the end of each day, it wasn't about the kudos (which were nice and encouraging, don't get me wrong) but seeing that others had found something in which they found enjoyment or connection or maybe even a better glimpse of themselves. No matter what was at hand, I've always tried to do the right thing, to do whatever brings the best benefit to the most people.

I don't claim to be perfect, though. I'm human and, being human, I make mistakes. Sometimes my judgment has been off; sometimes I got caught in the moment. Sometimes I reacted before I thought it through and so let my feelings get in the way of what I was trying to accomplish, or worse, didn't think things through enough. Sometimes I took on too much and came close to burning myself out. Sometimes I fell short of the mark in what was needed to get a job done. Sometimes I stepped out on the wrong foot; sometimes my best wasn't enough or I could have done better. There are still bootprints on my backside from where I got a much-needed kick in the complacency. I try to own my flaws and shortcomings and to learn from my mistakes.  

Through all of it, though, my intent and goal has always been to support the community and the people in it, to put energy and time into those things that better the whole, and to give to the people in it as best I can. My grandfather once told me to set as a goal how I want to be remembered in life and then live my life toward that goal. That's the one I work toward.

One thing I NEVER intended is that anyone should feel hurt or offended by anything I've done, be it through action or inaction. There is room enough in this community for all to shine, for all to find their place. And, if by action or inaction I somehow left someone feeling otherwise, then I failed. It's not how it's supposed to be; it's not what I was taught. Somehow, somewhere, I failed to give back what has been given me. I fell short of what it is I work so hard to accomplish.


But, just as mere words cannot fully express the true depth of gratitude, neither can they fully express how deeply sorry I am for any hurt feelings. As the best way to show gratitude is through action, then by action I must likewise show my sincerity and resolve to redress any wrongs that happened along the way. I can only own the mistakes I've made, try to my utmost to correct what can be corrected, and make sure I'm mindful enough to not repeat them.

I'm no one special. I'm just one pup in a pack of many, one soul in a community of many good ones. Just one who wants to keep giving back all he's been given along the way. In this season of harvest, the bitter grain has to be reaped along with the sweet. In its place I want to plant new seeds that are the lessons that I'm learning.

...And Sir as Well

Elsewhere I've previously related my experiences from my beginnings as a leatherboy through, not just my coming out of the kennel, but as a pup overall. I've captured how intense and rewarding (and occasionally saddening) the journey has been, and I look forward to what has yet to unfold. However, there is one part of that journey I haven't said much about. That's the transition I made from leatherboy to Sir. It's a transition that happened even as I grew as a pup, and continues to the present where I'm both.

Probably one of the most awkward personal questions I ever get asked is "Do I address you as Sir or do I call you Pup?" One thing that eases some of that awkwardness is that I don't expect anyone other than my boys to address me as Sir. Nevertheless, even though the reasons for asking are sincere and well-intended, it can still feel a little awkward.

 

There are a lot of feelings and struggles on this that I've never really shared. I've never been ashamed of any part of my identity as a leatherman or pup. But, there have been times when I've thought it would have been easier to be one or the other, either just a submissive pup or a Sir with boys under collar. I'm proud to be a pup, and I'm proud to be Sir to my boys. Yet, there have been times when I feel caught between the two.

 

As we so often are reminded, we live in a community with labels and identifiers. Being human, we often try to peg people into these boxes. Not necessarily out of malice or judgmentalism, but rather simply on the basis of interacting with unknowns via the barest minimum definitions. For most, it's a simple, innocent matter of comfort in how to approach people. None of us want to mistakenly approach someone as X, when they may be A or B. In the leather and kink community, where people take labels onto themselves, it takes on the added dimension, more often than not, of simply trying to be respectful.

However, over time, some of these boxes and definitions have, for reasons I still don't entirely fathom, become seen as contradictory to one another or seen as not fitting in at all. To be seen as a pup, which many still equate with being submissive, as well as a Sir runs contrary to many.

It hasn't been an easy transition; at times it's been downright confusing to me. Confusing because, even as an acknowledged Sir (and, by that, I mean acknowledged by others), I'm still Pup Tripp. Regardless of the role I have in my leather family, my inner pup and my need to be a pup haven't changed. Time and time again, people will approach me differently, depending on how I'm seen at the moment.

For example, at CLAW this past year, on Friday I was out wearing both my cover and my show tail with my kilt. On Saturday, I was in a singlet and kneepads and leather Chuck Taylors. On both days, I had my two boys proudly in tow; I was perfectly comfortable in my space on both days. Yet I was keenly aware of how differently some people approached me on Friday as compared to Saturday. Now, I appreciate and understand that much of it is born out of respect, and I'm perfectly fine with it. In fact, I look on it as a positive lesson for my own growth. I say all of this only because I noticed.

However,  there was something more, also. I was aware of some of the questioning looks thrown my way while wearing both the cover and the tail, even caught a mumble of reproach from one as I passed in the vendor area. Still, I carried myself with pride and dignity, comfortable in my own skin, knowing I'm both Pup Tripp and Sir Tripp, all in one package.

Getting to that point of self-comfort, though, wasn't easy. For the longest time, after accepting I was transitioning into a more dominant role, I still felt there were times I was supposed to choose between one or the other. Something as simple as just going to the bar could put me there. Do I leave the pup gear at home and go out in my cover, or do I put on the pup hood and other gear and go out as a pup? I was both even then, but finding the balance was elusive.

And what about my boys? Did they need me to carry myself more in the role of Sir, or were they fine if I was with them more as a pup? Was I somehow failing them or their expectations if I chose one over the other? They seem silly questions, but they're ones that I spent a lot of time wrestling with. Even as I embraced both parts of who I am, I struggled with bringing them together more often than I let on.

Fortunately, between my boys and all the pups and handlers I met during my title year, I was able to better come to grips with that internal struggle. The full package that is me was accepted in full, not piecemeal. I learned that it didn't matter that the two roles may be seen by others as contradictory. I was reassured that I'm not in some way thumbing my nose at long-held traditions and beliefs far older than my time in the community. I learned again that what mattered was that I be honest to myself and to let that honesty shine with pride and integrity. I was taught again that there is a time to let one take the lead over the other, yet both are equally important parts of who I am. Once again I was reminded just how fortunate I am to have in my life the people that are there and to be part of this community.

So, rather than try to jump between two boxes that do nothing but limit everything, I find myself wanting to toss those boxes aside and be both Pup and Sir at once. Yes, there will still be those who think it's somehow incorrect or in someway counter to certain beliefs. There will still be the looks when I wear the tail and my cover, or let my boy put me on the leash. Far more important is it to be honest to myself and about who and what I am than to hide it for fear of being judged.

So, the next part of the journey starts, and I look forward to it. Will I still on occasion feel caught between the two? Probably. I'm human, and change and growth don't happen overnight. And are the lessons ended? Not by a long shot, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

From Leatherboy to Pup

That the great journey called life is filled with experiences both profound and subtle pretty much goes without saying. And as many of us have at some point come to realize, something that seemed innocuous at the time was actually a major turning point. It’s only when we’ve moved forward from the moment far enough to reflect back and see it for what it is does that jump out at us.

This past weekend, a conversation with the man who brought my inner pup out for the very first time gave way to that kind of reflection. It was a chance to again look back at a moment that, while even at the time was filled with deep feeling, was a doorway through which I stepped into a whole new world. More importantly, it was a chance to really see how much being a part of the pup community means to me, the impact it’s had on my growth and journey, and how fortunate I am to have found my way into this great pack we have.

At the same time, it was a moment to look at where we were as a pack then and at how much things have grown and changed in what is relatively a short period of time.

But there was another realization that, after all these years, finally clicked. I didn’t realize it at the time (again, innocuous at the moment), but I encountered two things that were to affect tremendous change in my life in 2002. The first was my initial exposure to pups and puppy play. The second was meeting some of the boys from the DC boys of Leather.

This isn’t meant to be some kind of retrospective or “when I came out of the kennel” piece. However, to get to where I want to go, I do have to first look back.

My experiences in the leather and kink community have been tremendously positive ever since I first ventured into it nearly fourteen years ago. Yes, I know that 14 years is only a fraction of the experience of many who have come before me, and I don’t presume that makes me any kind of expert on anything. But those 14 years are packed with lessons learned, friendship and brotherhood shared, joys and hurts, love and loss.

And they have been packed with change. I’ve changed as a person and as part of the community. The community itself has grown and changed. Has it all been positive or constructive change? No. While most of the changes have been positive, there have been those occasional negatives that lead us to stumble. Each time, though, we’ve just dusted ourselves off and continued forward, a little wiser for the experience. Being human, however, we sometimes have to trip over the same kind of vine more than once before we realize it’s always going to tangle our feet.

With and through the DC boys, I quickly discovered and experienced a sense of brotherhood and community unlike any I had ever known. They were (and many still are) my brothers. As hard as it may be to believe, prior to my joining that club, I was actually pretty quiet. But the DC boys and my brothers in it brought out something that was just waiting to come out, to be shared and to be involved. It was a time and experience that influenced so much of my own growth in the community, and I will carry all those good memories wherever I go. I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Which is why, given how rewarding and enriching my time with the DC boys of Leather was, I’m still amazed that what I’ve experienced among the pups has transcended even that. If asked at the time, I would have said it couldn’t be possible.

And I would have been completely wrong. Not that one is better than the other, only that the differences – and parallels – are so remarkable.

When I first joined the DC boys, the leatherboys as a whole were still in the process of identifying and asserting their place in the community. The concept of boys and submissives was nothing new to the leather community. Nevertheless, the leatherboys were coming together to look after and look out for each other and to help each other. They weren’t looking to take the leather community by storm, only establish a place that was their own, a place that was safe and in which boys could learn from one another. Leatherboy clubs were springing up all over the US and in Canada (the first, the DC boys of Leather, began in 1999). To be sure, there were the naysayers who either disparaged or pooh-poohed the then so-called “boy movement” or viewed the boys as community property. And there were those who used being a boy as an excuse for inappropriate behaviors that reflected negatively on the whole.

It has been the same with the pups and the evolution of the community pack that’s come into being. Pup play and pups aren’t a recent creation within the leather and kink communities; there are those who have been around for 20 years or more. Like the leatherboys before us, the pups are now coming together, to look after and look out for each other, to establish a place that’s safe for pups. A place where we can share and learn from each other. Like the leatherboys before us, the pups are at a point of finding its own identity while asserting its place within the greater community. Pup and handler clubs are coming together far and wide. Yes, we have the naysayers and disparagers. Those who disrespect our space or see us as community property. And, yes, we have those who use “pup” as an excuse for inappropriate behavior and whose behavior reflects negatively on the pup community as a whole.

What really stands out to me, however, is the intensity and speed with which the pup community has come together, adapted, and grown. Our reactions to challenges and pitfalls as a community have, in the main, been very analogous to the leatherboys. When I first came out of the kennel in 2008, there was very little organization or networking among pups. Moshes were far from commonplace.

How different it is today! In just six years – the same length of time I was with the DC boys before coming out as a pup – so much has changed. We, as a pack, have become a community in our own right, networked and connected not just all across the US, but worldwide. We’ve responded to challenges by looking for and adopting ways to better ourselves and each other rather than run pell-mell down the negative path that would tear us apart. We’ve built something in which we’re all proud, something that embraces the diversity we all bring to it. Something meant to last and to grow.

As much as I felt lucky to be one of the boys, that same feeling is even more intense when I look around at my pup brothers and sisters and know I’m one of you all. I’m reminded again that, when Jason Hall asked me how my first experience in pupspace felt, that my answer was a heartfelt “Natural.” And no matter what challenges are thrown in our way, I know we’ll overcome them, just as others have before us. As others before us successfully asserted their place among the whole, so will we. And, like those before us, we will accomplish that while maintaining and preserving that core of the pack that makes us distinct within the whole.

It’s already started.


P.S. One last little “coincidence” that bears mentioning. Jason Hall, the man who brought out my inner pup for the first time, was also one of the DC boys’ members who voted me into that club. Hmmm….)

In Answer to a Question...

A question often comes up, both within the pup and handler community and from outside of it as well. It’s a question that stirs a great deal of discussion – some of it rather intense – and captures a wide array of viewpoints. Among pups and handlers, it’s a sometimes-awkward but ever-necessary step on our own path of self-discovery and self-identification as we emerge as a community pack. That often crosses inter-community lines as we explore it with those less involved with us toward a genuine mutual understanding. And, then, there are those ask it with a markedly different emphasis altogether.

Is the puppy community part of the leather community?

If that seems a simple, straightforward question, the reality of it is anything but simple or straightforward. The conversations surrounding it, and the passions it evokes are as many and as varied as there are people engaged or the number of arguments for either “yes” or “no.” In many ways, it goes to the heart of where the contemporary pup and handler community is in its growth and evolution.

There is no denying that the pup and handler community spans a wide array of interests and personal identifiers. There are those for whom pup play is sexual and those for whom it isn’t. To some it’s a kink, and a fetish to others. Some identify as leatherfolk; others don’t identify as such. Some include it as part of their D/s lifestyle, others don’t. We are diverse in terms of sexual orientation or gender identity. Some of us identify not just as pups, but as boys or subs, some are even Sirs or Doms. The same applies to handlers – not all are Doms and many identify with other parts of the broader kink & fetish community. There is no one-size-fits-all here.

Maybe part of the answer to the question lies in looking first at the history of pup play and the community that has grown around it.

There’s a general consensus that some of the roots of the pup and handler community can be found in leather. Part of our history includes that pup “play” was once more a form of humiliation, used to degrade or to punish. This is something found, not within just the past ten or fifteen years, but long before the emergence of what we have today. It’s there and has lent much to the shaping of what has come into being in the present. What was once used as humiliation or punishment evolved into a play and headspace in its own right, taking its place alongside a whole host of kink and fetish activities that we’ve come to accept as part of our lifestyle. There are many within the pup and handler community whose identity and involvement goes back years, well before the rise of what we see today, and a number of them have influenced what has since developed.

Also, there are roots within the emergence of the leatherboys/girls as a distinct part of the greater community. There are among us a good number who identify as boypups or first as boys but who are also pups. The number of pups who are in D/s relationships with their handlers or trainers, Daddies or Sirs isn’t small. There are many who found their way to the pup community or their own identity as pups through the leatherboys and the legacy the boys brought into the overall community as a distinct part of the whole. That many of the challenges and stumbles currently experienced by the pups and handlers today mirrors what happened in the late 90’s and early 2000’s is no coincidence.

Some of the practices and protocols we’ve brought forward and incorporated into the pup and handler community are quickly traced back to practices and traditions that were born among or adopted by leatherfolk. Where D/s relationships exist between pup and handler/Trainer/Owner, many of the traditional practices have been brought into play, from locked collars to pup play being a reward for service. Yes, there have been distinct changes in how some traditions have been adapted, but the essence of what was remains. Alpha/beta relationships can, in some ways, mirror a D/s hierarchal structure; a locked collar is still more often than not seen as a symbol of ownership.

I think, in light of just these examples (and there are more), the pup and handler community has some strong roots in the leather community. To say otherwise is to disregard where we’ve come from. Just as the pup and handler community can’t dismiss its history as part of the leather community, neither can others on the outside say we’re not connected to it.

However, like any community, ours has grown beyond its roots. What we see today, what’s grown from those seeds and roots, has blossomed into something more than what was planted. It’s fair to say that the pup and handler community is a part of the leather community, but it’s not entirely leather. Like so many other subsets of the kink & fetish world, ours has since come to intersect with a wide variety of other subsets, only one of which is the leather community. It intersects with the BDSM community, furries, the D/s communities, fetish and kink – and not all of them are entirely leather, either.

So, to again look at the question: Is the puppy community part of the leather community? 
Inasmuch as leather is a part of our history and much of what we are today can be traced back to leather, then yes.

However, the pup and handler community of today is not just leather. It’s so much more than that now. It’s a community in its own right, just as the BDSM and D/s communities are. As are the furries, the leatherwomen, bootblacks, and every other one out there. None of them – none – stand alone. Even as we each have our distinct identity, we’re also part of and bound to each other. At the individual level we identify more with some subsets than with others, and that’s perfectly fine. After all, don’t people often speak of how important our growth and journeys as individuals are?

Nevertheless, as a community pack, we’re connected to every other part of the greater whole. And we, as different parts of that greater whole, are all in it together.

So maybe it’s time to ask the next question: What can we do to look out for each other and come together as one?