I recently wrote an essay on humiliation as play. Which is one of my favorite ways to think of it—as a way to go back to our essential selves and be free of the constraints society puts on us as adults.
But, of course, that’s not the only way to think about it. And another that I think about often is this:
Humiliation as exposure therapy.
If you aren’t familiar with exposure therapy, the idea is this: Therapists will take a client who has high anxiety, fear, or triggers around a specific thing and safely expose them to the thing in order to reduce the intensity or negativity of those feelings (which also often come with things like compulsions, physical symptoms, and real-life consequences).
For example, someone with OCD might have intrusive thoughts anytime they walk across a bridge. Terrifying, debilitating thoughts of “what if I threw myself off?” One of the ways therapists deal with this is by safely exposing that person to the bridge to teach their nervous system that it isn’t real.
No, you won’t actually throw yourself off.
Yes, you are really, truly safe.
I think for some, humiliation and degradation in BDSM operate in a similar way. They are a safe place to face down anxiety, discomfort, fear.
What happens if she laughs at me? What happens if she sees me as just a wallet? What happens if I’m only a footstool? If I don’t matter?
What if I am rejected?
Isn’t that what it sometimes comes down to? A sort of immunization against rejection. Against being laughed at. Against the fear of not being enough.
In this space, I can see you and make fun of you and tell you you’re a total loser and wtf did you just do…and then I can exit the scene and ask how you feel. And I can show up again next time, telling your psyche that actually yes, you are safe. To be the weirdest or stupidest or grossest version of yourself.
It’s kink. It’s sexy. It’s a craving for a feeling society doesn’t think is pleasant. And sometimes that is about play, connection, making another person laugh. Sometimes you haven’t thought that deeply about it—all you know is it makes your pulse race. And sometimes, I think, it’s about this. Inoculating yourself against rejection. Teaching your body and mind that they can be brave, they can be seen, they can do the stupidest things that pop into their head, show the hard versions of themselves, and walk out relieved instead of destroyed. Seen instead of invisible.