An Elegy on Butthurt

Butthurt is probably one of my all-time favorite words. It’s the perfect mix of evocative, base, and specific, multifarious enough to cover everything from “I’m butthurt that I missed out on getting that pink Mercy skin” (you know the one) to “I still feel butthurt because Master stuck his finger up my ass last night and refused to take it out until I whimpered to His satisfaction.”

Such are the ways of geeky kinkery.

But(t) by far the most butthurt-inducing thing for me so far this year has been this:

That’s right: just like masturbation, I did it to myself.

On January 4, 2018, I had absolutely no idea of the Ryan Murphy-esque twists that lay ahead. That not one, but two vehicles would shit the bed in the period of eight months (which is better than me shitting the bed, ofc, but still). That after years of feeling wrong, and wrecking relationships like an emo Godzilla spank-humping Tokyo, I would finally get diagnosed with BPD (oh so much more on that later). That a decade-long campaign of harassment directed at my beloved husband and owner would finally reach its (favorable, thank Cthulhu) conclusion.

And that’s not even counting the good twists, like connecting with other Reylo shippers via an unexpected transformative fic project and launching ourselves into the poly-verse (in my case with legs spread wide. More on that later, too!).

Perhaps the most surprising thing was realizing I still had fucks left to give. As a (relatively) reformed thirtysomething screenwriter with $270K+ in student loan debt, a humbling day job, and a 1:1 cat-to-human ratio in our apartment (3:1 when I’m in snuggly kitteh mode), I was confident that I had no real ambitions left beyond becoming one with my couch. I was gonna be that weird introverted perv-nerd ‘til the day I kicked.

Then I saw that tweet, and the butthurt came roaring back like a mental flare-up.

For me it was never a matter of becoming the next (insert writer here, preferably nonliterally since I’m still working on my anal training), but getting these romantic, pervy stories that I’ve loved out into the world to find outer people who’ll love them, too.

And that’s where the butthurt came from: knowing the only thing that stood between now and checking off that literary laundry list was me.

Cue the epiphany and/or orgasm SFX!

So enough with looking backward. It’s altogether too easy to strap on the rose-colored glasses and bemoan the missed opportunities, the wasted time, the as-yet-unfufilled potential. Time to get back on the proverbial horse and ride it like Catherine the Great.

The first story from my kinky SF/fantasy anthology JUPITER LIBRARY is live on Amazon (free on Kindle Unlimited!), with a new tale dropping every month — and though it’s taken me more than ten years, my beloved ALLIANCE is coming in June! I’m thinking that might be around the time of PortCon, but I’m not sure I can handle all that excitement at once, haha.

Stick around in the meantime for stories from my kink-scapades, reviews, and who tf know what else in the ways of nerdiness and perviness ;) (and if you like my stories, leave me a review!)

Thanks for reading, internet fam, and stay thirsty!

xoxo,

Elegy