Why Queer and Kinky Love Is Political

Some people are irritating simply by their existence. Not because they are loud, not because they intentionally provoke. But because they live something that others desire but often don't dare to. Those who love queer or live kinky (or both together) often become a thorn in the side of those who cling to the rules of the majority society: heteronormative, monogamous, compatible with everyday life. And often, these people are deeply unhappy.

Let's start the new year bravely - and "annoy"

Because let's be honest: How many people truly live their sexuality as they secretly wish? How many just do what they've been taught – out of shame, fear, habit? How many cheat to "live out something different"? Unfortunately, I can't present reliable figures. But you only have to listen carefully to your wider circle of acquaintances.

We are all a little bit kinky

"If you truly believe there's someone out there without any fetish or without a basic erotic pattern... then you're mistaken."

This is how author Anastasiia Fedorova puts it in her book Second Skin. Fetish, she says, is not a fringe phenomenon, but a part of human fantasy. But not everyone shows what excites them. Some don't even know. Yet the need for pleasure beyond the norm is universal and visible: in fashion, in music videos, in advertising. It's everywhere.

Queer and kinky people live openly (or more openly) what many only feel secretly. This is not provocation, but liberation. And that is precisely the socio-political uproar!

Between wish and reality - the silent double standard

Sexual double standards are often more subtle than you think. Anyone who harshly judges themselves for merely recognizing or actually living out their desires, whose conscience screams, is shaped by societal norms that are deeply ingrained in all of us. Women, in particular, often judge themselves more harshly. And men? They carry their shame differently – studies suggest that men tend to suppress negative feelings or hide them behind facades, rather than showing them (even to themselves).

What appears outwardly as "decent sexual morality" is often a wild negotiation process internally. That's precisely why openly queer and kinky people disrupt the image: They show that there's another way – more honest, more pleasurable, freer, and thus healthier.

Kink & Queerness - more than just a lifestyle

Whether BDSM, polyamory, or simply a life beyond binary gender – queer and kinky lifestyles challenge. And in doing so, they expose something crucial: The so-called "majority morality" is not neutral. It is a system that controls, judges, and restricts: "This and that is... perverse!"

When queer people appear at Pride parades in pup hoods or harnesses, it's not about "dragging sex into the public," as critics often claim. It's about visibility for identities that are still marginalized. And about breaking open those rules that dictate what is "respectable" and what is not.

If respect is only granted as long as one looks - and seemingly lives - like everyone else, then this respect is not progress, but merely camouflage.

The matter of "respectability"

US sociologist and lawyer Yuvraj Joshi calls this phenomenon "respectable queerness": a queer life that appears outwardly adapted and, for the non-queer vanilla majority, respectable. Monogamous, polite, career-compatible. Anything else is considered "too much" – unacceptable. This clearly shows how much normativity still lurks within supposed openness. Joshi points out that public acceptance for queer people is often linked to them adopting a respectable social identity that publicly conforms to norms, while deviations are pushed into the private sphere. The demand for respectability may at first glance seem like a bridge. In reality, it is often a kind of test with hidden exclusion criteria.

Queer means: not having to be unambiguous

The philosopher Antke Engel has a wonderfully apt term for this: de-disambiguation. For her, being queer doesn't mean creating new categories, but rather questioning why we constantly need them in the first place. Do we always have to be able to say: I am this. I am that? Or is it enough to simply say: I am me. This way today. Perhaps different tomorrow.

Kinky and queer people often live precisely this openness because they have learned that identity doesn't fit into a box. And because they know that clarity often restricts more than it liberates.

And now?

Most likely, your sexuality is not a protest, no. Probably it's simply your space for intimacy, pleasure, and security. That's how it should be!

But as soon as you live your desires – honestly, openly, without diminishing yourself – it gains political power. Because it shows that there are alternatives to normal. Because it encourages others to go their own way. And because it holds a mirror up to all those who prefer to conform rather than allow what could be.

Queer and kinky love (or both together) are lived truth, an inward confession, and thus automatically an outward statement. And sometimes, therefore, a thorn – in the best sense.

Kinky regards!

Thymos Emm

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(* "We don't try to shock anyone – that only creates distance. We want intimacy." Journalist, author 'The Dominus Effect', kinkster, scene-goer. Committed to the kinky world of Munich and beyond. Loving sadist: 'Come on, give me a smile!')