“That’s not my kink.” This is a joke between me and my husband. Because it does seem like just about everything can be someone’s fetish or kink. I mean look at any online porn outlet (not that I ever do) and there are subcategories for just about everything.
For instance, if we’ve just been to our favorite restaurant and I again have eaten so much I almost feel sick. He’ll say “Don’t vomit, that’s not my kink.”
Because vomit is actually a fetish. It’s called Emetophilia. Wikipedia tells me this is also referred to as a “Roman shower”.
Being a kinky girl myself, I would never judge another person on their sexual proclivities. I for one, completely understand being turned on by something that you have no explanation for or control over.
The internet is a great place for people with kinks and fetishes they don’t want to take public. You can let your freak flag fly all from the safety of your own home and no one is the wiser.
If all parties are consenting adults and no one is getting hurt, then I really don’t see the harm in it.
Are you a Formicophiliac? Apparently this is not the love of Formica countertops but the desire to have sex while having bugs crawl over your skin.
How about Mechanophilia? Becoming sexually aroused by vehicles and machines.
If you do an internet search you can find listings of all different types of uncommon fetishes (as well as many common ones). The reason why I was even doing this search was because a really creepy thing happened to me recently. Well, I am viewing it as creepy, but perhaps it was harmless. And it may have even been someone’s fetish.
I got a friend request on Facebook. Upon seeing that this person—who I am assuming was a male because he had a male name and a male profile picture (but really, he could be anyone)—and I had no mutual friends I clicked on his profile. There was a picture of him, and someone who looked to be maybe a girlfriend from the way they embraced in the picture.
I scanned through, trying to figure out where I might know him from or why he would have friended me. And then something caught my eye. Every single person on his friend’s list had my name. He only had eleven friends, but still, how weird that they would all have the same first name.
I got goosebumps and clicked off of his profile (without accepting his friend request). I felt a little bit like a serial killer was trying to collect me as a trophy. It was early in the morning in the bright light of day, but it made me want to make sure my windows were locked.
As I thought about it more I felt ridiculous for passing judgement so quickly. If I wanted to romanticize it (and I do like to romanticize things) then I could imagine up a scenario where he fell in love with a girl who had the same name as me one year in his teens. Perhaps it was summer camp. They met by the lake and shared a canoe (you do that in summer camp, right? I’ve never been). He only ever got her first name, but he’s carried a torch for her ever since. So now he is systematically friend requesting every person on Facebook with the same first name. Not creepy. At. All.
Okay, still pretty creepy!
Then I thought, maybe it is a sexual fetish. Perhaps, for whatever reason he needs my name in his life to reach sexual fulfillment. I couldn’t find anything in my quick internet search that linked certain names to a sexual fetish, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. If that is the case, then I wish him well. I’m still not accepting his friend request, because I do feel like I would become part of a collection. And that is not my kink.
