Those of us who are kinky may not necessarily be out to everyone. Sure, we attend classes, parties, and munches, but not many of us ask much about what our kinky friends do when they aren't doing those things, and while we might share about ourselves, it's rare that we give out our names and personal details. At one time, not so long ago, the thought of outing myself was a nightmare.
Somehow, though, when someone is living in a nightmare, the fear of what we think might be a nightmare gets tossed out the window. Do you want to talk about the idea of having your vanilla friends and colleagues find out that you, an upstanding citizen, also are kinky? Do you want them to know what you do in the privacy of your own home or dungeon? Probably not! I know I wouldn't want them to know, at least not if I could prevent it. But situations change us. Experiences change us.
This past Saturday night, I was at a dungeon with my kinky friends. We talked, and laughed, and shared things. I was completely unconcerned about anything other than enjoying their company. Several hours later, as I was just beginning to fall asleep, my second oldest called me from a local emergency room. That moment in time changed me. The moments since then, as I spent my days in the hospital with Jonathan, holding his hand as he went through increasingly grueling and painful tests, I began to realize how precious and important life really is. I also realized how unimportant some things that I treated as important were. Priorities changed rapidly.
Jonathan is 29 years old. I mentioned on Fetlife a few days ago about how he rarely cried, and my memory of the last time he cried. Well, unfortunately I've been witness to his tears many times since Wednesday night around 6. We've both cried, mostly out of frustration and fear of what is ahead. The diagnosis has been devastating. More devastating than I could have ever imagined. Acute Lymphoblastic Lymphoma. Look it up. The picture it paints is uglier than most people imagine. My sense of reality has been turned upside down and backwards.
So, suddenly, I'm faced with deciding what's more scary: Me being outed or my son not getting the help and emotional support he needs. Jonathan won. Today, I'm outing myself for my second oldest and sharing his GoFundMe page. I'm not asking anyone to donate, but this best explains why the past few days has been a personal hell and even if you only write words of support for him, it would mean the world to me. Thank you!
I'm trusting that anyone who reads this will decide to remain honorable and not use my personal information against me, but if you do, my son getting the emotional support he needs was worth it.
Shilo and myself will also divert some of the earnings from our C4S store to pay some of his bills, so if you'd rather remain anonymous and help that way, it would be appreciated.