And when we say that, we are accepting and validating the way our culture tries to shame our sexuality. We are fundamentally agreeing with the opposition and begging for an exception, rather than trying to change the rule. We are calling BDSM a "fault," rather than stating that freely exercising sexuality is our "right." When we make BDSM into an orientation, we are often casting BDSM sexuality as something that we would "fix" if we could. But BDSM is not broken in the first place! Also, using the orientation argument leaves the entire segment of the population that doesn't feel BDSM as an orientation standing out in the cold. If we go with the orientation model, and say that it's okay for BDSM-identified people to practice BDSM only because we feel it as a deep-rooted orientation... then we are implying that it's not okay for people to practice BDSM if they don't feel it as a deep-rooted orientation. Something like this has happened in some gay/lesbian communities: people who have sex with folks of the same gender, but don't identify as strictly gay or lesbian, have sometimes been stigmatized within gay/lesbian communities or even disallowed from gay/lesbian gatherings. I understand that there are historical reasons that kind of thing happened, and analyzing the phenomenon would take up a whole post. I'm pretty sure books have been written about it. But the point is that when it did happen, it left bisexual people -- as well as others who don't fit neatly within the "gay/lesbian orientation" -- out in the cold. And I don't want to support that with BDSM. So I've tended to avoid that kind of language. I think it is important to move away from "I can't help having these needs," and towards "It's fundamentally unimportant whether we can change our sexual desires; the only really important thing is whether or not we practice them consensually.” But... there's always a but... I'll admit that I feel anxiety about abandoning the "orientation model.” I still haven't taken