I’ve carried my fair share of kink shame. There are things I’m into that used to embarrass the hell out of me. Honestly? Some of them still do. And unless you’ve done some serious emotional digging, there’s a good chance you’ve felt it too.
Maybe it hits after you orgasm.
Maybe you shut your laptop and immediately feel gross.
Maybe you’ve never even said your kink out loud—and can’t imagine ever doing it.
If that’s you, just know this: you’re not broken.
And you’re definitely not the only one.
Let’s talk about kink shame—where it comes from, why it sticks, and how we can start letting go of it.
What Is Kink Shame?
Kink shame is the guilt, fear, or self-disgust that shows up around your turn-ons. It’s not just “I feel weird about this”—it’s “I feel like something is wrong with me because I like this.”
It can show up in quiet ways:
- Worrying that your fantasies are too “freaky” or “messed up”
- Avoiding certain porn tags because they feel too real
- Feeling a wave of shame the second you finish
Or in bigger ways:
- Deleting your favorite content so no one ever finds out
- Refusing to share anything about your desires with a partner
- Convincing yourself you’re unlovable if people knew the truth
It often sounds like:
- “This isn’t what normal people like.”
- “I’m disgusting for getting off on that.”
Where Kink Shame Comes From
We weren’t exactly raised in a world that encourages sexual exploration.
Sex, for most of us, came wrapped in rules—what’s “appropriate,” what’s “gross,” what’s “feminine” or “masculine.” Anything outside that little box? Labeled as weird, deviant, or perverted.
So when your kink includes things like humiliation, diapers, bondage, impact play, or sissification?
Yeah, it makes sense that shame creeps in.
Add to that:
- Religious guilt
- Repressed family values
- Societal messages about what “good” sex is
- The internet constantly mocking people with “weird” fetishes
And you’ve got a perfect storm of repression.
It’s not just that we feel bad about what we like.
We’ve been taught to.
The Double Shame of Being Trans and Kinky
Being trans already comes with a complicated relationship to desire. But when you’re trans and kinky, the shame often doubles.
It’s not just embarrassment.
It’s the fear that your kink is going to invalidate everything else about you.
You start wondering:
- “If I’m turned on by feminization, am I just fetishizing womanhood?”
- “Will anyone ever take my identity seriously if they knew?”
- “Do I even deserve to call myself trans?”
That kind of shame doesn’t just hurt—it isolates you.
It makes you feel like you’re playing into every stereotype.
And it keeps a lot of people quiet when they actually need connection the most.
But the truth is, your kinks don’t make you less trans.
They don’t cancel out your gender.
And they don’t make you a joke.
Why Kink Shame Doesn’t Make You Wrong
You are allowed to like what you like.
You are allowed to explore, be curious, get off, get weird, get messy.
Kinks don’t make you bad. Shame does.
A lot of us are drawn to kink because it lets us feel things we weren’t allowed to feel anywhere else—power, surrender, visibility, control, softness, ownership, safety. These are human needs, not character flaws.
And here’s the other thing:
You don’t have to explain your kinks to anyone.
No one needs to know what you do behind closed doors unless you choose to share.
You don’t owe anyone an apology for what turns you on.
Your pleasure is valid. Even if it’s complicated. Even if it’s taboo. Even if you haven’t fully made peace with it yet.
How I Started Letting Go of Kink Shame
This didn’t happen overnight. But for me, letting go of kink shame started with curiosity.
I stopped asking “What’s wrong with me?”
And started asking “Why does this feel good to me?”
That shift changed everything.
I started journaling. I wrote down fantasies without editing them. I tried to figure out where they came from—was it childhood conditioning? Gender repression? A way to feel safe while letting go?
Once I started digging into my own psychology, the shame lost some of its power.
I saw my kinks not as flaws—but as a language. A way my body was trying to communicate with me.
And I let myself feel it.
Sometimes, yeah, I’d cry after. But not because I was ashamed—because I was finally starting to understand myself.
That’s not dirty.
That’s healing.
You’re Allowed to Let Go of Shame
If you’re hiding part of yourself because it feels “too much”…
If you’re turned on and terrified at the same time…
If you’ve carried kink shame for so long that you forgot what it’s like to enjoy anything without guilt—
Please hear this:
You are not disgusting.
You are not broken.
And you are not alone.
You are allowed to feel pleasure.
You are allowed to explore what feels good.
You are allowed to have weird, wonderful, messy desires and still be worthy of love.
Your shame is not the truth.
It’s just a scar from living in a world that taught you to fear yourself.
And you don’t have to keep carrying that.
Let’s Talk
Have you ever questioned your worth because of your kinks?
Have you felt ashamed of what turns you on, even if you didn’t choose it?
Leave a comment. Or just sit with this for a bit.
You’re not alone, baby. And you don’t have to figure it all out today.
But you are allowed to start healing.
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