there's something very freeing about becoming single. there's a point where the realisation hits you that you have no obligations to your partner to stay within the boundaries of the relationship or be their social rock. this doesn't make it easier, of course, the pain is still fresh, the wound healing. seeing your partner move on in the same way is one of the worst parts of a breakup, but at least there's some emotional refuge in knowing that you are your own person and can be who you are without them.
last night i went to manchesters first klub verboten party, a berlin style rave night with a fully kitted out sex dungeon and techno djs from 10pm to 4am. the advertising for the event gave an impression that the night was about self expression, about being true to yourself and the people around you, finding your deepest desires within that and seeing those desires realised. i'm not sure they would have been brave enough to use the word 'ecstasy' for fear of giving the wrong impression on their stance on chemsex, but the mood was just that: find your ecstasy and take it.
being part of the bdsm scene in manchester has lead me to a group of friends like many other queer groups: we playfully describe ourselves as 'incestuous', graph theorists might call us 'strongly connected'. in other words, if you're not having sex with someone, there's a good chance someone you're having sex with is. i often worry that friend groups like this are inherently unstable. things feel good whilst everyone is having fun but when someone is no longer having fun, things can get messy very quickly. i try not to say this out of spite - thus far, my group of friends has been wonderful and seemingly quite drama-free - but its easy to fear the honeymoon period may be coming to an end.
i'm approaching a year on the scene and i have learned so much about myself from my time here. i think i could loosely categorise all of it as being about power. before i joined the scene, i was actively practicing kink: hookups, friends with benefits (although really more benefits than friends), one partner, and a lot of situationships, most of this time spent assuming i was wholly submissive. since joining the scene, i have discovered dominance and within it, i have found what klub verbotens marketing team would have me believe i could only find at their klub. while submission gave me a freedom from shame through asking for what i want and letting my dominant be the one to enact it, domination has given me a slightly different escape, by being able to ask my partner for what they want and hearing that it is often exactly what i want. i relish the wonderful payoff where i am handed the control to play out my desires exactly as i want them with the knowledge that this is also exactly what my partner wants. but domination has also fed my confidence - although it was my finding self confidence that got me here - by wearing this costume, both a personality during play and a beautiful pvc bodysuit on my skin, i can feel confident, knowing that my partner wants this. seeing the desire in their eyes and hearing it in their voice feels good, i feel wanted in a way that i haven't for so much of my life.
the other key piece of power i have discovered is knowing when i don't want something. setting boundaries, not feeling wrong for having them, knowing they will be respected, and having the confidence to enforce them. i've spent so much of my life thinking i know what i want and it has been such a strange feeling realising that what i want in the moment isn't necessarily the same as what i fantasise about. listening to my body has been a big part of this. my body has a lot more to say about my life than i ever thought and learning to tune in to what it has to say has never left me with regrets. if my body doesn't feel good in a situation then i probably don't want to be there and getting to make that decision to opt out is incredibly empowering. it feels like i am finally navigating sex and relationships with a compass to point me in the right direction.
i find that most sex parties i go to teach me something about myself, but i think last nights party was exceptional.
just shy of two weeks ago, i broke up with my partner. or rather, my partner broke up with me. we bought our tickets for the party long before we broke up, and i had bought an outfit specially for the occasion so to me there was no chance i was going to miss it, the task at hand just changed from "who am i going to play with and what am i going to do?" to "how am i going to enjoy this evening knowing it might be difficult? knowing she's going to be there and you're going to see things that will hurt"
since klub verboten was also a night of techno (after all, berlin-style doesn't just imply a berghain-esque sex dungeon), i decided the best way i could make the most of the night was through dancing. music is very special to me, it weaves itself into my head and i feel it through my body and my emotions. despite this, dancing is a part of music that i have only recently discovered. since finding comfort in my body as a trans woman, i have found that dancing comes quite naturally to me. i have good rhythm, i have a strong healthy body, i have good balance, and, most importantly of all, i enjoy it.
i also feel like one of the most empowering things you can do when faced with a party that your ex is at is to put in effort and make yourself look amazing. i try not to indulge in pettiness because i know i want to try and rebuild some kind of friendship with my ex once these wounds have healed, and this feels a lot like being petty, but its not the same to me. to show up as your best self despite putting so much energy to tending to your wounds feels good. it feels good to be your best self.
so last week, i got a haircut, the first time i've done this since moving to manchester. i got an undercut which is something i've always wanted but never done before (as an aside, there is something formatively queer to me about getting a haircut after a breakup, i'm glad i got to have that experience). i remember looking in the mirror when i got home and seeing how hot the woman looking back at me was. in moments like those, i take a picture to capture that joy and bottle it to reopen and re-experience later.
but this happened again when i tried makeup for the first time. makeup is something i've avoided due to a sensory aversion to it, i struggle to even kiss people who are wearing makeup for fear of how it will feel when it rubs off onto my face. despite that, eye makeup has always appealed, since it doesn't go anywhere near my mouth (i dont really know how to explain my feelings about makeup, i've been told this is an autistic thing, the rules of it are beyond my control). i have also felt like i dont know how to use makeup because nobody has ever taught me. despite that, i realised i could go into a shop that sells it and just ask for help, then go online and look up tutorials. again, this feels formatively queer. and again, i put it on and the woman looking back at me was hot and i made sure to take a picture.
the night itself was difficult. my ex spent the evening in the arms of one of my closest friends. i got to watch them disappear to the playrooms more than once, one of which, she lead him by a collar and leash she was holding. there was even a moment wherein i found myself in the playrooms at the same time as them. turning a corner to see your friend eating out your ex two weeks after breaking up is an anxiety that many only dream of. revisiting these memories is hard, i can feel intense and uncomfortable physical sensations in my body reacting to these memories. but i had made a promise to myself that i wasn't going to let her ruin the evening. she had already ruined my week and she didn't deserve to ruin any more of my days. so i decided that i was going to get up onto the podium in the middle of the dancefloor and start dancing, picturing myself as the woman i was, the woman looking back at me in the mirror who was sexy and dominant and knew who she was and wanted everyone else to know too.
she spent the whole night dancing. i think i got up on the podium around midnight and although i wasn't planning to, i didnt come down until the dj stopped, the lights turned on, and the security guard told me to go home at 4am. i had sprained my ankle the week before and frankly i dont know how she did it but it was like heaven up there. i saw the way people were looking at me with desire. i made out with several people on that podium in front of everyone. i periodically took hits of my friends poppers to give me a booster. dancing in those moments of induced euphoria had never felt better. i felt more confident in those moments than i ever have before. more comfortable in my gender too. i remember making eye contact with a woman on the edge of the dancefloor a few times throughout the evening. at one point i winked at her and she smiled and looked away. it felt powerful to know that i could do that and i had done it because i had discovered myself and brought her with me.
i had found my ecstasy, and it was beautiful.
like any ecstasy though, there was a come down. there was an experience when i left that stage that was visceral and powerful. the lights were on, the music stopped, the dance floor emptying and all there was to do was step down before the return back home. stepping down from that stage was harder than stepping up onto it. i paused as i realised it was time to return to real life. to let go of the high and return to the ruin. that most literal comedown made me cry just a little.
when i returned home i got the emotional release i craved and cried myself to sleep. a mixture of pain from the new fresh emotional wounds of what i'd seen, as well as immense pride in myself for making the absolute best of the evening, whilst also staying (largely) sober. that evening changed me and the woman who came out the other side is tempered and powerful. nearly a month on, she still hasn't finished processing the emotions of the breakup and the twist-of-the-blade aftermath. but she's getting there and i'm proud of her. i'm proud to be her.