how i got here

Why this site is here, and how it came to be.

I've spent a lot of time building this site. I truly appreciate everyone who has messaged me to share how the information here helped them; it's nice to know that, in some small way, I've helped people. 

I've been asked a lot of questions about myself; how I got into the fetish and BDSM scene, why I like gothic music/fashion, and why I made this site.  I tend to be a private person, but in the interest of explaining how I got here, I've decided to put it all out there.  So, here goes:

ash's childhood

I was born and grew up in Hell's Kitchen, a part of Manhattan, New York City. My mother emigrated from London, and my father from Cork, Ireland before I was born, and my mother's parents followed them here. My grandparents and parents both had careers in the professional space, so as a child, I did not want for much, other than time and attention that they did not have to give. 
 
Growing up, New York was a sleazy, dirty place.  Times Square was not so much a tourist destination, so much as it was a hub of porn theaters and sex workers, but my parents bought a row house, not far from Times Square, and settled there to be close to their work.  I came along a couple of years later, their only son. They had high expectations for me to follow in their footsteps in their professional space, (which, as it turns out came to fruition, as I ended up in the medical field, though instead of healing people, I work with those who could not be healed.) 

When I was 15, my parents were in a car on their way back to the city from a conference upstate, and were killed by a drunk driver. My maternal grandmother, then a widow, moved into the row house to take care of me and act as my guardian. Still working at the time, she was not well equipped to help me through the loss of my parents, or the mess of a teenage boy going through puberty, so I was more or less left to my own devices during the week, and the only real expectations were to be home for Saturday night dinner.

It was about the age of 15 that I discovered the gothic subculture and music. Dark and brooding, sensual and sinister-- the music and fashion seemed to fit my emotional state, my sense of solitude, and my budding sexuality perfectly, so I embraced it wholly. My grandmother did her best to be supportive, while not at all understanding-- and so her coping mechanism was to simply let me be. 

I was bullied quite a bit in school. It's hard to say if it was because I was gay, or a goth kid. Either way, I was called the usual names, harassed, and threatened.  I was a scrawny kid, but knew how to fight back, and was not afraid to fight dirty. While I was rejected by the popular and cool kids, I found some friends and support with the alternative kids, which helped me explore the goth, punk, metal, stoner, and other subcultures/music. Outside of school, I managed to make friends with one or two popular kids outside of school, (who turned out to be closeted,) and we formed a sort of support network for one another, while occasionally exploring our sexuality with one another.

As my sexuality started becoming more prevalent, I found relationships with the alternative guys in my friend group. The gothic and punk scene tends to overlap the fetish and kink scene a bit, surrounded by the sleazy underbelly of New York-- so my early sexual experiences were not quite vanilla.

When I was 18, my grandmother had a heart attack, and passed away, leaving me completely on my own. I had no family in the States, and was not at all close to the family abroad. Being of age, I inherited the row house, and the money and assets my grandmother and parents left behind. That, combined with a scholarship, saw me comfortably through college, and much of my adult life.

a teenager alone in new york

It is a really bad idea to give an 18 year old a house of their own, and a trust fund, and no parental supervision. Yet, I had a house of my own, a sex drive like a freight train, and freedom. That, combined with the people I knew, the cruising scene and clubs of the city, and it should come as no surprise, dear reader, that I made some bad decisions. While I was more responsible then most teens, I still used drugs. I fucked around, a lot. Despite using protection, how I managed to make it through that period of my life without getting a serious STD or HIV, I will never honestly know.

I started my late teens and easily twenties as an optimistic romantic, believing I was truly in love with each of my succession of boyfriends. I was faithful to each of them, though the same could not be said for any of them. Despite being on my own, and having lost everyone dear to me, I am still not wholly sure how I managed to be the more emotionally stable person in some of those relationships, because I definitely had more than my share of issues. But, I found myself getting my heart broken again and again. The final straw was a beautiful guy named Christian. He did not break my heart like the others; he seemed to adore me as much as I did him. He was truly beautiful in every sense of the word, but was troubled by his religious family, who strongly disapproved of his sexuality, and his choices. He was my best friend, and stayed in the house with me. Christian broke my heart in the end as well, but in a very different way; while trying to reconcile with his family, he ended up taking his own life.

This broke me in so many ways. My heart and soul died that day, and stayed dead for the next decade. I decided that what made a relationship work was sex, without commitment, without love.  Trust and friendship, but no emotion.  And, a longhaired twink with a penchant for kink had no shortage of options in the city….   So, I closed my heart, and opened my zipper, and had fun. Lonely, but never bored. Never committed to anyone.

I filled the loneliness by building a chosen family. Friends who came out to their families and were disowned found a home with me. My trans brothers and sisters as they found their identities and voices had a place to get on their feet. My house was a safety net for the unwanted, and in the process, I started a tradition of opening my home for the holidays, giving my wayward chosen family a place to have Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner, and to ring in the New Year— a tradition that lives on to this very day. They kept me sane, healthy, and from spiraling into a sea of bad decisions. I owe my life to them.

Finding myself

As I slept around the five boroughs in my twenties, I finished college, and started my professional life. Now living a very divided life between strict professionalism at work, and wild abandon in my personal life, my heart still closed, but exploring my sexuality to the fullest.

My early experiences, and the kind of guy I found myself most attracted to had marred me a bit, since most guys just seemed interested in sex, without any of the fun supplements I found exciting. I would occasionally meet someone through a friend of a friend who has interests parallel to mine, but my desires made me feel like I was weird, broken, and alone. 

Eventually, I found guys who were interested in the same things I was in the bedroom. I wasn’t alone! I wasn’t broken; just isolated and under informed! So, i started exploring my kinks and darker, less conventional desires more and more. I found I had a penchant for dominance, and there were no shortage of guys who wanted to be used. I experimented, learned from others, and built a reputation for being trustworthy as a dom.  I converted the basement of my row house into a dungeon, spending a small fortune on renovations and gear in the process. And, for quite some time, I was happy.  I had no shortage of guys to satisfy my cravings, with no commitments. At the end of the day, I had my own space, my freedom, and I was happy.

The website started

As I explored and learned, I didn't fully understand the importance of consent until a line was crossed, and I had to undo the emotional and psychological damages. I didn't understand drop wasn't a "me" problem, it was a universal experience. I learned a lot of things the hard way, and as I learned, I started to write and post information online to try and find others like me, and help them gain experience and understanding, without having to learn the hard way, and without feeling like they were broken, weird, or alone.  Irritated an annoyed by censorship and online ads, I decided just to make my own site to provide a place with the information I wish I had. 

Over the years it has become a reference for the whole community: a dictionary of fetishes and terms, guides to the flags and codes we use to find each other, and plain-spoken articles on identity, safety, health and feelings. The goal was simple. When you have a question about your sexuality, your gender, a kink or a fetish, you should be able to find a real answer. Not a punchline, not a sales pitch, and not a lecture. If you've ever typed a question into a search bar late at night and hoped nobody would see it, this site is for you.

what you'll find here

what this site is not

• It isn't professional advice. For your own health, legal situation or mental health, talk to a qualified professional.
• It isn't private. If you choose to create a visitor profile, it can be read by anyone, anywhere. Share only what you're comfortable having seen.

where is ash now?

One of my problems is that the type of guy I am attracted to, both physically and mentally, is a combination that is hard to find. Tall, lanky, longhaired guys with an androgynous face, but a masculine demeanor, who like to be dominated, who are kinky as hell, and who will be open, honest, and forthright about what is on their minds. Creative, artistic, and compassionate, not creeped out by the fact that I work with dead people-- and the list goes on and on. It's a tall order.  Add to that my trust issues, and my abandonment issues, and the few guys who meet the criteria would have a lot to handle. They would be wise to run away.   

Yet- a couple of years ago, I was stopped in my tracks by a beautiful guy who literally made me turn my head. Gorgeous, I thought, but probably straight.
He flirted. Ok, maybe not.
But he's not going to be-
"Didn't I see you at the [fetish event]"? 
Oh.
We ended up making plans to meet up at an event. We had coffee. We had dinner. We had a date.
Fuck, am I falling for this guy? 
He came to the house. He saw the playroom in the basement, and ended up spending the night with me there, a night of intensity and passion that shocked me.  
We spent many nights just talking. We spend others just going at it like kinky rabbits. We spend some just laying there in silence in each others arms. 
And, typical me, I tried to protect myself by pushing him away. But he didn't let me. He called me out for being afraid. He gave me time, and reasons to trust him. 
And, in time, I slowly migrated from being with several guys to just with him, since he was able to give me everything I needed.
We were married on Halloween in the chapel in Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn this autumn...

So, I am still living in the row house in Manhattan, (since remodeled) with my new husband and dogs. We still host the occasional coworker or friend who needs a place to stay, and we still host my family of outcasts and misfits for the holidays. And, I am m the happiest I have ever been.  I know, it sounds like a fairy tale - though not a lot of them have fetish and gay couples built into them - but it's where I am now.