Hypocrites and Monsters

So, after another 2 pages of definition writing, some with Brent and some on my own, I was taking a break. I hop on Fetlife. I see a friend post on a pic. I take a peek. I follow it back to some guy's profile and find myself rolling my eyes and going "you've got to be joking me."Then it all hits me. Folks must feel the same way about me. Yeah, right, not even 30 and he's been in the public scene how long? He has done what? He used to be a she and she used to have giant needles shoved through his/her... is that photoshopped?I find myself looking through his profile, the comments on his page, trying to ascertain whether its real or pulled porn that has been edited. Some of the pics look *really* a lot like they are from Hogtied or other porn sites. I breathe, and go ya know what, some of my pics on RopeLover *are* from Hogtied... because I was there. Who knows who this guy's girl is, ya know?I think what hits me is the pretension. The holier than thou "women who are flexible enough etc may submit to me and if I want I may fuck them" sort of attitude. That rubs me wrong... and also gets me hot. Why? Because I've been that girl. I've been to some crazy events over the years, and signed up for some crazy stuff. And ya know what, I might again, some day...But probably not for him.I think sometimes my hardcore jaded player side is pitted against my everything is okay live in love and peace happy fluffy educator side. Part of me longs to mindfuck my Boy in the hospital again, making him wonder if he's about to be institutionalized. The other half of me weighs out the chance of psychological break, ethics of involving non-consenting humans, wonders what the neighbors would say. The first half wants to get laid. The second half worries about his reputation.I lift my atrocities up to the light and use them as teaching stories. I laugh at the pain and remember when, remember when? By telling the stories there becomes distance- I *was* the monster, I *was* the maiden, and I once quested. I only rarely peer open and peel wide the current monster and maiden tales, only rarely show the current quests, lest I be seen as mad. Madmen make the best tales, but we keep them apart.A month+ ago I was in Atlanta and went to a class. The teacher spoke of an upcoming scene, a planned scene, a 90 day scene. No safewords, no out, body and brain changing. She talked out the plans, talked out years of work that went into it. But it was still looking into a monster to come, rather than looking back and saying "thank goodness we survived that tale." There is fear in staring down the beast beforehand, even the beasts of others. If that beast has our desires writ upon its scales, might it devour it as well? No adventurer, no hero fair, can tell us she has survived this monster.Shadows brought to light are often rumored to be smaller than they were in the dark. The Monster becomes a mouse. But what happens when the monster is brought to light and she glistens with her snake belly and slithers into our heart?I am dancing with serpents. Here, wrapped around me, scales press tight. They shed their skin and live on. I have shed my skin and live on. I am magic, as are they.Does that make me a monster, snake bellied and slithering into my own heart?Or is my life photoshopped, dropped in, a collection of tales past? When peering in, what do they think? Do they check the blood for high fructose corn syrup, the scars for super glue? Am I hypocrite, am I beast slayer past? Or am I still dancing, with my snake siblings, in the dark... an iron ring around our hearts?