I’ve always, on some level, been a kitty.
When I was young, I struggled to relate to human people, so I found comfort in cats. I studied and mimicked their body language and the ways they interacted with their environment. I meowed, ate food from a bowl on the ground and butted people with my head to show affection. It was safe. It was reliable. It was comfortable. I knew how to be a cat much better than I knew how to be a person.
Other kids accepted this about me. I was the cat kid in elementary school. Everyone knew that. Teachers, however, found it concerning that my play-pretend wasn’t limited to the playground. I didn’t yet have the words and self-awareness to explain why.
As I got older, the connotations of my behavior and peoples’ responses to it began to change. I no longer expressed my feline inclinations quite so conspicuously, but the way I dressed was enough.
I suffered unwanted attention and harassment in high school as a result. Across campus, I was followed by the sounds of meowing and barking. Strangers appeared from the crowd and bumped into me, called me slurs, or meowed directly in my ear. It frustrated me, sometimes to tears. I had done nothing to them, and the worst part was that I didn’t even know who they were, or how many of them there were. I could hardly go anywhere alone without someone jeering at me or making sexual comments.
It strikes me as both ironic and inevitable that I would later get into pet play.
As an adult, I’ve learned to mask my catlike mannerisms in public to avoid once again becoming the center of such attention, but they’re still the closest thing to a true nature that I have.
Having a role that I choose for myself lets me pull from a defined identity and set of behaviors I can return to when I don’t know how to express myself. It provides a social framework for both myself and those around me to follow.
Play of many sorts, especially the silly, undignified or vulnerable kind, tends to be seen as shameful in our society. Embarrassment is a scourge to be avoided at all costs. Adults aren’t allowed to fumble or play pretend as kids do. Yet people who subscribe to that notion are really missing out!
Engaging in creative play as an adult opens entirely new doors, such as, yes, combining it with sex — whether just trying it out for a scene or building an ongoing dynamic, sexual roleplay enables you to explore anything along the spectrum of sweet and silly to intense and scary from the safety of your partner’s arms. You might even be surprised by what you like!
As for me? It’s such a relief now to curl up in my owner’s lap at the end of a long day and know that they love me, every silly little bit of me, from my nose to the tip of my tail.
It’s where I belong — me, all of me, just the way I am.
The column’s signature artwork was created by Aaliyah Gholamipour in collaboration with the columnist.
