I'm back with another wall-of-text about sexuality, especially from the perspective of someone who gets most of their sexual satisfaction from something other than sex. In my case, it's tickling. As I've mentioned before, I consider myself a demi-sexual dominant hetero-knismolagniac, which means that: * I have very little interest in sex unless it's with someone I'm romantically / passionately involved with. * The physical hunger for sex is replaced by a desire to tickle (knismolagnia) but not from being tickled (dominant). * As a cis male, I am only aroused by tickling women (hetero), generally that I'm otherwise physically attracted to. I cover all of these things again because it's important to have a basic understanding of my perspective. At the end of the day, I believe different perspectives are the key to understanding just what sexuality means to all and each of us.

Disclaimer

Please bear with me if how I phrase some of these things sounds dispassionate, rude, impersonal, etc. My first hope is to be as honest and open as possible. I do not wish to hinder that too deeply by being overly cautious, though I will also do my utmost to be respectful and empathic. My second hope is to be clear, understandable, and relatable. So I try to use language and examples that will be perhaps a little distanced from sexuality and emotion for the sake of painting a true and accurate picture. Beauty and interpretation are, of course, in the eye of the beholder.

Background & Recap

One other thing I've mentioned before but I will try not to delve into again too deeply is that, from my experience and from reading the experiences of others, sexuality is something we discover about ourselves. As a personal example, from my earliest memories, I remember feeling nervous or excited whenever I observed tickling, tickled, or was otherwise tickled. I didn't understand it until much later in my teenage years, but the important part to consider is that tickling as a sexual response was always there from me, and I believe it was there from birth. My childhood has been very different from many other childhoods of others in the tickling community, and I make a parallel to reading the stories of young men who grew up thinking that their crushes and attraction to other boys being a phase, not knowing they were gay, but discovering it. For me, tickling is as inextricable from my sexuality as being straight. But there are others who are different, of course, for whom tickling is something that they enjoy, or can enjoy sexually, but who do not need it for sexual enjoyment as I do. I have come to consider this a the difference between a fetish and a kink, but now also believe it's less about tickling but that tickling (or their other kinks) satisfy some other, more important part of their sexuality. This may be a need for playfulness, or a need for domination/submission, or sadism, etc. Fetishes I now see or believe as being as concrete as someone who is absolutely heterosexual or homosexual, but kinks being a situation where the gender is not as important as other details, like maybe eye color, or personality traits.

The Questions

As I've delved into my sexuality and what it means to me, there have been a few questions that I've really tried to tackle, and I'd like to share my current conclusions. I do this not just to hopefully spark a few lightbulbs for others who have had similar questions, but to also hear different perspectives that will help mutate my own. The questions I'm going to discuss here are: * What is sex to me? Is my fetish my version of sex? * What constitutes sexual assault when someone with a non-sex fetish is involved? * How does my fetish coincide with my romantic relationships? What can I expect from my relationships, and what can my partners expect from me? Please journey with me as I explore these topics.

Sex vs. Fetish

The first question has been very important to me because it was actually a source of confusion for me. First, let me describe sex, from my perspective. As I mentioned, I'm demi-sexual. What this means is that, with my partner, I do like to cuddle, get passionate with, and have sex. But this then causes a problem during sex, because it's not actually holding my attention sexually. Don't misunderstand: yes, it feels good down in the nethers; yes, I am very much attracted to my wife and her body; and yes, I really did want to have sex with her before we started. But what happens is that during sex, the passion gives way to the physical aspects of the event, and suddenly I find myself lacking stimulation. I then become mentally active in trying to keep up performance, being pleasurable to my partner, and otherwise being physically uncomfortable and bored, as sex can be tiring and painful if your head isn't fully in it. I have come to associate this with a common refrain I hear from men and women who find themselves being unfulfilled by their sex lives, regardless of how attractive they find their partners or how often they have sex.

So the act of sex isn't fully "it" for me, but does my fetish take its place? I have found the answer to be no. Tickling does not replace sex for me, and it certainly does not mean the same thing. Perhaps this is because I'm demi-sexual, but after a lot of soul-searching, what I discovered is that my fetish only replaces what might be considered the "casual" side of sex. It's the thing that provides arousal and enjoyment in sex, but even physically does not replace sex. In my relationship, my SO and I generally find play partners to indulge my fetish. This, then, turns on the lights that are otherwise missing. Sex and other sexual interactions with my wife, though they are devoid of tickling themselves (she isn't ticklish), are then much richer and fuller, and I find myself not lost in my head, and lost in the moment. There is a marriage, then, between the physical "need" of tickling, the passion, and relationship-side of sex, and the physical enjoyment of that sex. These are three different things, each with their own complex rules. One of the funnier quirks for me is physical attraction.

I fully believe and accept that physical attraction is a necessary part of the romantic relationship with my wife. I find her exceedingly beautiful. But outside of that romantic context, the beauty of another woman is akin to a nice car. I can see that the car looks awesome, and it's easy to admire, but after the car has turned the corner, it generally leaves my mind shortly thereafter as well. Obviously, car analogies must be taken with the perspective that I am not a car aficionado. Anyway, the point is, physical attraction is present and necessary, and absolutely present in women other than my wife. But it's otherwise unimportant. It does not drive my own need as much as it might drive someone who IS (in our car analogy) a car person, or someone who really loves being seen getting out of a really nice and expensive car (and note the difference between the two people; again, the root of the desire matters). But then how does it relate to my fetish?

What I have discovered is that physical attraction matters more there, but also not nearly as much as the fetish itself. Back to our car analogy, think of it this way: if you had the option (ignoring expense and the like) your first instinct might be to get into the car you find most appealing at first sight. This will be different to different people, of course, but the first impression will matter. It will matter if the car looks like it will go fast, or sound loud, or carry a lot, or have a great shine and a good color. Now imagine that as you try out this car, the car does not turn on. The result can be really frustrating. In the case of my fetish, this is the result in finding someone I'm attracted to, but they aren't ticklish. This is both very disappointing and a huge turn-off. Back to our cars, we then navigate our large sea of choices, and given time, we find that for the most part, we can enjoy enough the look of many cars available in the lot (with many more that simply never catch our eye). Some will be pickier than others, but ultimately we will find that there's plenty of cars that we would not mind seeing ourselves drive, and different people will enjoy different styles. But ultimately, what should hopefully sell us the most is how well we enjoy how it drives, and whether you can trust it to get you places. Back in our sexual world, this to me translates to a woman being ticklish, who laughs, and doesn't hate being tickled, along with being attractive to me.

Does that physical satisfaction provide you with the romance and passion you might need for sex? Maybe not, and in my case certainly not, as I do not feel the desire to have sex with our play partners. A romantic attraction is not really necessary here (though it helps). The infatuation of having that satisfaction might put us into a position where we want to believe, and fool ourselves into believing that it's the same thing. It is not. Our physical attraction and needs in our sex are as important as a car that gets us from point A to point B, but it is not as important as our purpose at our destination. Can we find a partner that fulfills both? Yes, and in some cases, we should for a successful long-term relationship, but that's something I will be discussing with my third question.

The final need for a physical attraction that I have found as important was during that third "leg" of sexual enjoyment. Enjoying sex with a partner we're romantically involved with also matters during this climactic part of the relationship. It is like the octane in our gas. It's not the whole, but it is important. What attraction means is different for each of us. Again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or in the touch, or the smell. Regardless, it is there, and it is important.

Unrecognized Sexual Assault

Having explored the difference and the connection between sex and fetish, I thought about a point which I feel is very important, and in which I feel has no gray area. My line of thinking started thus: I will never feel the need or physical desire to have sex with anyone other than my romantic partner. So then, if I just stick to my fetish, an action that is generally considered more socially acceptable, can this really be considered sexual assault, or rape? My answer has been an absolute yes. Some of you may agree with me out-of-hand, and others will feel the instinctual desire to argue because we consider our fetishes "safer" or "tame". But again, bear with me.

First, let me start by stating that there is porn for people with my fetish. There's porn for most fetishes, I imagine, but for my fetish, things can get a little tricky, and really disturbing. Porn for me and people like me does not necessarily require nudity. It will for some, of course, but most of us will get by with someone who is fully clothed and being tickled. Plenty of studios surrounding our fetish produce content that has no nudity except maybe exposed feet. Consider the implications here. Back when the internet was younger, searching for tickling on youtube generally showed you clips by some of these producers, but that is changing, a lot. More and more, every day, people are making "dare" and "challenge" videos and tickling is a popular one. Apart from perhaps intensity, in some cases nudity, and length, there is very little difference between such a video and our porn. The ASMR controversy comes to mind as well. Here is something that may not be intended to be sexualized, but it absolutely is.

Now, before I go on I want to address a core belief that I have. Should people stop making these videos even as many others will use them for less-than-innocent purposes? I heartily believe the answer is no, and the reason why is because we should not be limiting our own lives and our own decisions based on the lewdity of the people around us. Honestly, if we did, there would probably be almost nothing in this life we could safely do without engaging the arousal of others. But we should be aware that is very much a reaction we can expect and respond accordingly. If you make a shoe-shopping video and decide you aren't comfortable sharing that with the world if someone is going to find it sexual, then choose not to share it. We are unfortunately powerless to change the perceptions and interpretations of others without a lot of effort. But if, on the other hand, you're happy with your shoe-shopping video and it's more important for you to share the trip and the experience than worry about what some random person might feel about it, well, do what makes you happy.

Now that's out of the way, let me get back to the point. Among the things that I have found most disturbing are the comments (I know, I know, youtube comments, I really shouldn't bother and all, whatever). People that are very clearly either in my fetish or have a similar kink are constantly commenting on these videos, making requests and suggestions that are easy for me to recognize but are probably just weird or interesting to the posters. The fact that people don't think of tickling as we do can obscure the fact that what these people are asking for is on the same level of requesting sexual favors. To me, those requests were a form of sexual assault. They weren't directed at me, they probably weren't even considered that way by the content posters, but I felt like we were hiding behind our obscurity to be... rapey, and get away with it. These were the people representing my fetish. Something that I consider a significant part of my identity. I was horrified, but I also forced myself into seeing myself through that same lens.

Tickling is not always sexual to me or people of my fetish. It can be platonic, it can be just flirty. But could it also be dishonest? Maybe some of the girls I had flirted with in the past, whom I'd tickled in my youth, had no idea what its effect could be on me. Had I been violating my friends all my life? I allowed for the possibility that yes, I had been. But I also allowed myself some solace. Tickling wasn't the only way I flirted, and I flirted and tickled only when I felt the relationship was in the right place for it. And I also wasn't as shy or cautious with my tickling identity as others in my community are. I didn't post billboards about it, but none of my friends were in the least bit surprised or caught off-guard when I wrote my previous post about what tickling meant for me. Tickling, like hugs and cuddling, is a social contract for me that I grew to understand. When I flirted with others, others flirted back, and as I judged myself, I at least conceded that I tried to do as much for those with whom I flirted as I did for myself.

Still, I felt dishonest. I still feel dishonest. I imagined, if I were to tickle someone who was in my power, and didn't want to be tickled, or at least not by me, how was that so different from taking that same power by sex? My answer was that it would be no different. I can rape without ever performing any type of penetration. Anyone can. I even considered something from my youth. When I was little, my dad would try to tickle my stomach. He had no idea, of course, and at that point, I didn't either. Here's the interesting part. As he tickled me, I didn't even realize, for the longest time, what he was trying to do. You'd think it would be obvious, but what I do remember is that there was such a deep level of discomfort in me when he did that... My childhood was violent. Very violent. My childhood was scary. But my dad would try to tickle me (very rarely) during happy times, and the discomfort I felt was deeper even than some of my more violent memories. I couldn't understand it. Again, I couldn't even realize it was because he was tickling me, which I believe is partly due to the discomfort being so great that it froze my mind on it for years. Just as it took me a long time to recognize what tickling meant to me, it took me years longer to realize why those moments had felt so uncomfortable to me. And so I thought, what about someone who does have the fetish, who enjoys being tickled, but are then tickled against their will by someone who is not even sexually aroused by it. My conclusion was that this was just as grievous a sexual assault. The level of discomfort, of powerlessness, of forced control over someone else's sexual identity, could be considered nothing less.

Expectations and Relationships

My final question, though certainly by no means the least important, is one spawned by a lot of questions and discussions in the tickling community (yes, we're a community!). First, let me explain for those non-ticklers among us that for many ticklers and ticklees, coming out to partners or the world about their fetish is, well, exactly that. Coming out. I've met non-tickle people who dismiss the fetish as cute or only mildly interesting, not worth being too self-conscious about, but unfortunately that's a position of privilege. Our fetish, like any other fetish, is something deeply important to us. It may not be a driving force of who we are, but at least it is certainly an important part of it. While maybe insignificant to some, it can be that difference by which others choose to make fun of us, to consider us "freaks", or in more painful instances, to realize that we are wholly sexually incompatible and thus the end of a previously cherished relationship. Fear of social ostracism is innate in our human species as we are social creatures. As we learn more and more in our modern age, our sexuality is a huge part of that social fabric. It's worth fighting for its freedom, its representation, and its equality. While tickling may not be a cause to deny us our rights to marriage or even outbreaks of senseless violence (knocking on wood), the fear of social stigma is enough to keep knismolagniacs quiet and shelled up about such a significant part of their lives.

It's important to start with that because that silence can lead to problems down the road in our relationships, and it's this topic that I wanted specifically to discuss. What happens after that silence is broken and someone with a fetish or other sexual need finds themselves in a relationship that is perhaps problematic? The conclusions I've come to are not simple. They can be painful, hard to accept, and riddled with sacrifice, but I do believe them to be healthy in the long run. It boils down to these basic rules: * You cannot expect your partner to fulfill your sexual needs if doing so makes them unhappy or uncomfortable. You would be asking them to sacrifice their mental and emotional health. * You cannot expect your partner to sacrifice their sexual needs just to be with you. You are potentially asking them to sacrifice their mental and emotional health. * You cannot be expected to sacrifice your own sexual needs for the sake of your partner. Doing so could be very harmful to you and your partner in the long run. * You cannot be expected to fulfill your partner's sexual needs if they make you uncomfortable or unhappy. Doing so could be very harmful to you and your partner. * You cannot expect your partner to be okay with you fulfilling your sexual needs outside of your relationship if they cannot otherwise fulfill them. * You cannot be expected to let your partner fulfill their sexual needs outside of your relationship if you cannot fulfill them. * You cannot expect your partner to be okay with fulfilling their sexual needs outside of the relationship. * You cannot be expected to be okay with fulfilling your sexual needs outside of the relationship. * You cannot force a relationship to exist.

At first glance, these rules might appear to be simple, or they may appear to be contradicting. They do not contradict each other. There is another choice that may be difficult to accept, but if the alternative is violating one of these rules, then it is definitely the best option. That option is, of course, ending the relationship, amicably if possible, and moving on. The rules as they are stated may be enough, but I will delve deeper into them now. I will use examples from my own relationship and of those around me. In this, I do not speak of hypotheticals. In my own relationship, my wife and I are mutually sexually incompatible with each other. But we knew that from the very beginning. We were honest with each other, and we talked at length about it. What works for us is an understanding and our own rules on how we can find our release outside of our relationship. We are both okay with this, and we both happily and respectfully take advantage of this. Our relationship works because we have separated our sexual needs from our love for one another and our family. This woman means the world to me. To give it words, imagine waking up one day to a beautiful day, the perfect breeze and the warmth of the sun in the peace of the mountains, with no where you need to be, with nothing you need missing, and that moment of serenity as you sit in quiet contemplation with a warm mug of some savory beverage. That is as apt a description as I can give of what I feel like when I see my wife when she gets home from work. It's not a head-over-heels. It is gentle and powerful, and calm. And what is missing from each other is not insignificant. I love my wife, but if either of us couldn't get our sexual needs elsewhere... that would probably be different. We both know what it's like to go through a dry spell. Tempers flare. Painful mistakes are made. And this is not one-sided. We all have our own wants and needs. Without them, we can find ourselves unhappy, and even worse, make our loved ones unhappy. We can find ourselves subconsciously trying to sabotage our relationships.

A recent example of something I witnessed recently came from a friend with my fetish who, for the first time in her life, was able to experience her fetish fully outside her relationship (with consent, of course). Two things happened: first, she realized how important her fetish was to her, and why she had been frustrated without it; and second, her husband discovered maybe he was not okay with her exploring her sexuality outside of the relationship. This posed several problems that I was already somewhat familiar with. My friend's husband was willing to tickle her, but it was missing the "spark" that was evidently present when being tickled by someone who hungers to tickle her. Tickling as a physical act is hardly enough on its own. There's always some psychology involved. I enjoy my tickling to be more light-hearted fun but still intense, while others prefer to be tortured or be torturous. Some people don't care how much the tickler wants to tickle them, and some ticklers don't care how much the ticklee likes it. To others, it makes all the difference in the world. This was something I was keenly familiar, as that was the same reason I was unable to fully satisfy my wife's needs. She needs someone to hunger for her in a way I just can't. So I cannot expect it to be any different for any other fetish, or kink, or sexual desire. The variables are different, but we do all seem to rhyme with each other. Anyway, back to my friend: here we are left with two people facing different options. My friend could decide that her fetish, while enjoyable, was not as important to her as the relationship. That is an acceptable option, as long as she is the one making it. On the other hand, if she finds she cannot see herself happy without her needs fulfilled, then her options were to find it outside her relationship or to end it. However, her husband cannot be expected to accept her finding her needs fulfilled outside of the relationship. That is his choice: can he be happy while she is being tickled by other men or women? If not, he does not have to accept it, but he cannot expect her to live without it. And if she cannot, that must mean that his only option is to end the relationship. After some confrontation, and what I consider to be an unhealthy fear of losing the relationship, he decided he was okay with her finding release from someone else if they stayed together, but she then realized that for her it was important to share that experience with the person she was to have a long-term relationship, which she could not do with him, and also wanted him to find the same. Ultimately, she ended the relationship, as she felt neither would feel truly happy or healthy with things as they were going.

This might seem like a cold application of logic, but the truth is that if we try to sacrifice ourselves for the sake of our relationships, then what we are sacrificing is actually the whole of that relationship. What's left is not love or trust. Instead, it is one person denying themselves for the sake of another, and just as tragic, another person accepting it. Both are at fault. It may take time for the effects to truly take shape, and so it will be hard to notice as a relationship goes from love and cooperation to abusive and codependent.

Thanks!

Anyway, these have been my musings into sex, fetishes, relationships, and respect. Sorry for the long journey. Please share your thoughts with me. I would love to have my horizons widened.