I recently added my MAL Primer after initially posting it on my Instagram story. Mid-Atlantic Leather weekend, MAL, is one of my favorite times of the year. This year was a little more complicated. My “Pride in January” ended early. Still, there were valuable experiences and lessons from this weekend and, at the less than ideal end of it all, I learned a lot about myself.
Friendship
MAL is always a time of platonic connection just as much as sexual connection, and this year was no different. Having events like these are a blessing if your Queer family lives across the country or globe. Having friends in Saudi Arabia, New York, and San Diego means that the chances to get all of us together are few and far between; this is often the lone opportunity per year. To receive hugs from friends, and lovers, I haven’t seen in a year or more is warming and connective in the most foundational way. Further, I had the opportunity to introduce my non-local friends to my boyfriend. While the volume of people can be overwhelming, the space is saturated with all of us in Fetish and Kink drag. I can’t speak for my boyfriend but meeting people in leather jockstraps lowers my anxiety. It’s a sort of “imagine the classroom in their underwear” feeling.
I always appreciate my local friends and acquaintances in attendance as well. The regular attendees, in particular, are appreciated because we’ve built a relationship to the space and event. Many of us run in different circles, but we are lucky to have this kinky little singularity to pull us all together. There’s a deeper respect I have for regular MAL gurlies. I look at them and think “you’re an absolute pig, and I love you for it”. Some people I only knew passingly or just knew of but even that brought me joy. I told a local cumdump community caretaker that I was familiar with his Twitter and respected his work to which he laughed. There were lots of those silly little interactions.
Something that always warms my heart is seeing people I didn’t expect to. A friend was there in his neoprene gear, and I was happy to see him and very turned on. I don’t think I was surprised to see him in general but was surprised that he had fetish gear that wasn’t just a harness. No shade to harnesses but they are sort of a gay standard now. I have one too; don’t worry. I would like to see more folks in singlets at gay events and parties where people are trying to look kinky or edgy.
Gays attending MAL in an ‘edgy’ outfit
Diversity and Inclusivity
I never shy from the fact that the Queer kink community can be very blanche and male. These events are often not cheap and are often constructed by and for a specific demographic. They are often made in the image of monied able-bodied cisgender white gay men. That can obviously be alienating to people outside of those identities even if they are or want to be a part of the Queer Kink community. There’s a homonormativity even in more marginalized aspects of Queer life. As a result, I take notice of all of the people outside of that hegemonic image that are present at the event. In terms of gender, I am definitely seeing more Women and Femmes at MAL. I got to witness a woman run an e-stim demo in the Exhibition Hall. The demonstration spaces and the vendor hall are often where you encounter the most gender diversity. I’m a bit uneasy about that because I don’t want gender diverse folks to be relegated or isolated to working or educational activities. Give them their coins and put asses in seats, but also how does MAL make more of the event accessible to them?
On the other end, there were mad Black people at MAL. I think Black Queer Men are usually the second largest demographic, but we seemed even more visible this year. I think it may have been the variety of groups. It’s one thing to see scattered negroes in mostly white groups; it’s another to see groups of Black folk or multiracial groups enjoying the weekend together. Organizations like Onyx are always present, and, from what I saw on the Interweb, their Gear Show was very popular. I’m not a member and didn’t know about the Gear Show until it was happening. This is definitely something I’m interested in checking out next year. Outside of formal organizations like Onyx, there were a lot of community-generated activities and spaces. A lot of MAL organizing happens on Telegram, and that’s where I found an MAL Men of Color group.
Clock that it says “and their Admirers”. I don’t like that. This isn’t some Dr. Umar “racial fidelity” bs. It’s a recognition that this group should be for “Men of Color”, and even that framing is too narrow. I don’t want a safe space for us to also be occupied by those most likely to do racial fetishism and foolishness.
Even labeling them as our “Admirers” with a capital A is messy. It implies an importance and necessity to this group of people. Moreover, it welcomes the exact white men that are sending “BBC?” on Grindr or Jack’d. Thursday night I saw a Sniffies event where a white man was explicitly inviting Black men, and only Black men, to run train on him all night. I don’t think we need to be making space for our “Admirers”; I think they consume enough on their own.
In good news, I found out about two FFOC parties through this telegram. What is FFOC? Fist Fuckers of Color. Generally, if you see FF in front of anything like “Looking for FFun”, it means fisting. FFOC has become a brand and a hashtag to label the growing population of Queer People of Color that fist and the increasing number of events made by and for us. Something I’ll dive more into in a later post on Blackness and Fisting is the way in which the fisting scene is so much more community-driven than other kinks. There are “Clubs” and groups in many cities around the country that organize events. A leader in Chicago’s MAFIA group was on the Such FFun podcast a while back talking about being a Fister of Color. Houston’s Space City Fisters group is led by two men of color and they put on FFOC parties, including one at MAL. People don’t understand the level of work that goes into building the fisting community and, more importantly, a community that includes and supports people of color and doesn’t circle jerk around able-bodied, young white men.
Speaking of ability, I took notice of the number of people with visible disabilities at MAL this year. I don’t believe the organizers, the Centaur MC, are taking any demographic data but I’d love to know the number of people with visible and invisible disabilities. I’m also curious about their experiences with the hotel. Infrequent and frequently packed elevators with long lines can’t be good for people with mobility issues. On a personal level, I had reactive arthritis at MAL a few years ago and just hobbling around the hotel was a lot, but the stairs, the common means of going between floors when above the lobby, were a particular nightmare. Waiting for the elevator with a fucked up knee was not even on the table. I think I’d be pretty pissed off all weekend if I used a cane or a wheelchair. I want the organizers to take stock of whether the practices at the hotel are accessible and how the logistics can better accommodate People with Disabilities in the future.
With conversations around Disability, come conversations around age, and many of the people I saw with disabilities were older. MAL is one of few Queer spaces that is multigenerational and forces us to see and consider the variety of members of our community. I live for the old man in his leather vest and mobility scooter. That’s a queen to me. It really does warm my heart to see the range of ages because we as Queer people, especially as Queer Men, don’t often see our possibility to grow old. Even getting to 40 is a relatively new thing for us because of the AIDS of it all. To see Queer people age, is a blessing. To see older Queer people have community events to come back to every year, is a blessing and a model for our own futures. The annual nature of MAL means that we’ve grown up with the event. My MAL roommate and I have been going together for 6 years even when he was in law school and was in a completely different relationship. We used to be the clueless clowns at MAL and now we’re the expert clowns and mentors. Having friends that were older than us allowed us to engage MAL and eventually get rooms ourselves, and now we make those safe spaces for others. I’ve been hooking up with a 21 year-old and I liked that he felt safe leaving his stuff in our room. I’m a resource and access point for him and that has given me an unexpected amount of joy. Am I Daddy, now? Sadly, we didn’t get to spend a ton of time together this weekend, but he knows he has me and that makes me feel purposeful.
Le Fist
I met the 21 year-old, Tom, through fisting. I generally have no interest in pursuing anyone under 24, but fisting often creates multigenerational spaces. In fact, he’s one of the only people I’ve fisted that’s younger than me. Kickball is my other multigenerational space, but that is still heavily Millennial and then Gen Z. The fisting community is the first community that I joined that is multigenerational and leans older. Even as Gen Z is jumping into fisting and pup play before they graduate college, the scene is still older. I like it that way. I like that I build intimate relationships with older Queer men, and that my two primary play partners are Gen X and Gen Z. This embracing of age diversity doesn’t negate the Politics of Beauty and Desire and the way that youth is venerated in the culture, especially Queer culture, but I find the fisting community less pressed about it. In some ways, being older can be seen as a better thing because you likely have more fisting experience, sexual experience in general, and access to comfortable play spaces. I don’t think many college dudes are whipping out the X-lube and doggy pads in their dorm or parents’ home. Meanwhile, 60 year-old Daddy has a whole dungeon in his basement, and it’s soundproofed. Lastly, I don’t know the history of fisting and AIDS, but the AIDS Crisis created a surge in non-phallic sexual activity and was a major catalyst for the Kink and Queer communities merging in the 90s. I can imagine that fisting may have been a part of that movement and has led to a lot of older fisters as a result. Those people that were experimenting with new, safer ways of having sex are now in the 50 and up crowd and they have the knowledge and resources. I’ll have to do more research on that front.
All this talk of gut punching begs the question: Did Broadway get fisted at MAL?
Survey says: NO.
On Friday, I skipped Abyss because I was tired, wanted to be at the hotel, and didn’t want to spend money on Ubers and tickets in the rain. I would come to regret that decision. On Saturday, I hung out with other fisters but made no plans for that night. In fact, Sunday was supposed to be my big day. Remember, I was invited to two parties that day. As I was mapping out my day and about to shower and get ready, I got a phone call from my boyfriend confirming that the sickness he was feeling the night before was Covid.
Rona
Me in bed right now. JK it’s pretty mild
My boywife started having symptoms on Saturday night and left the hotel. We weren’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t good. Watching him try not to throw up in the elevator and knowing I couldn’t do anything for him was heartbreaking. I stayed at the hotel that night and hung out with friends, not great looking back, and went to bed. When he called the next day, I left the hotel and went to get a test. In a complicated manner, I was sort of dog-sitting that weekend so I stayed at my friends’ home with the dog as I took the test and got my positive results.
Covid Stigma
I want to talk about moralism and stigma and anxiety and how I was a shithead. Covid comes with a lot of “feelings” and moralism attached to it. Often, in a manner that mirrors STIs. The sad irony is that I wasn’t scared of getting an STI at MAL. I’m fairly comfortable with my regular testing and treatment regimens and communicating to my partners when I get a little Itchy & Scratchy. Covid, however, felt different. I could hear the world saying “ well, that’s what you get for going to a big event like MAL” when in reality, I almost certainly had it prior to that weekend. I think I would wave someone off if they said that about getting an STI at the event.
I felt fraudulent.
How could I have a relatively healthy relationship with STIs but be so twisted about Covid? Events like MAL facilitate contracting either or both. That contradiction was causing me distress. So was having to leave MAL early on Sunday.
I was upset.
I was upset that I was upset.
I was upset that I didn’t go to Abyss. I was upset that I spent so much time making sure other people got into the hotel or were having a good time or had a place to store their stuff. I was upset that I spent time showing my boyfriend around the vendor hall and sending time with him instead of other people. Everything that made the weekend special and connective now felt like slices of a temporal pie that had been snatched from me. Now I had an empty pie tin and everyone else was satiated. I was angry and I blamed my boyfriend. On the phone I expressed resentment to the only person I could talk to. I resented him for “giving” me Covid and “ruining” my weekend. None of that is true. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart for being cruel to you, babe. I was having a tantrum and struggling with a lack of control. It’s hard thinking about how I acted that day because it’s not who I am normally, who I want to be, or how I want anyone to be treated.
I’m lucky that my boyfriend is empathetic and mature enough to know that I was being immature and lashing out. My friends dropped off my stuff on Monday, and I went to ole boy’s place to quarantine and continue apologizing. It took some time, but I’m reframing this weekend for myself. The things that I was mad about in my tantrum are the exact things that made this weekend special. Spending time in the hotel with my boyfriend and our out of town friends is what the weekend is about. Sure, I could have been at Abyss getting my guts punched but I’d rather see my boyfriend makeout with my friend and laugh at another for doing too many poppers. I’m sure I could have been getting dommed instead of getting my friends into the hotel or hanging out in the lobby but I wouldn’t have had a lovely conversation with a friend about their desire to be in more sex-positive and expressive spaces. I would have missed out on how much this weekend means to them. The joy that others felt and the joy I felt can’t replace my desires or moments of sexual intimacy, but they’re something else to celebrate. Even in getting Covid, I got to spend multiple days with my boyfriend, and all of my friends gave me their support and love. I have amazing people in my life, in and out of the MAL community. I can’t write this off as a “bad” MAL; it was just more complicated than expected. Next year is a chance for an even better experience with all these amazing people and new friends I meet along the way.
I’m able to find joy in the weekend despite its “complexities”. I’m also able to now laugh at my covid situation so I’ll leave you with this video accurately depicting me every time I laugh.
Thanks for reading. Like, subscribe, share, and don’t judge me too hard for being a bad boyfriend.
Note: I didn’t get any SFW pictures or videos from the weekend sadly so you must use your imagination
Recommendations:
Saving Up by Dom Dolla
I just finished Volume 1 of Grant Morrison’s New X-Men in paperback and I’m about to finish my first read of Watchmen by Alan Moore. These are essential.
Check out this video by Patrick Willems on what Morrison’s New X-Men meant to the franchise
I recently re-watched the Juneteenth episode of Atlanta. It’s a great critique of the Black Bourgeoisie that you find in Atlanta and DC. I think it’s great for all parties but I also think it adds a layer of depth to Black intra-community politics that non-Black people may not understand.
Currently re-watching Code Geass. If you’re interested in fictional anti-colonial conflict and how they reflect our world, I would heavily endorse this series. It’s brilliant, it’s mecha, it’s sci-fi, it’s magic, it’s Queer af, it’s anti-imperialism; it’s morally fraught.