Rope and Violence

I don’t have a “rope body.” My arms and legs are short and stubby, my torso is long, and I have a temperamental lower back that likes to give out on me if I don’t take exceptional care of it. Oh, and I am fat. My body size has changed quite a lot in the past decade, but the inescapable fact is: I am all curves ahead, no matter what the tag label on my clothing currently says.

And I’m okay with that. I have worked hard to be body positive and body neutral after a lifetime of hating my body. Aside from when the lower back is being a dick, I’m pretty pleased with all of the stuff my body does for me. But there are times when I am super aware of just how different my body is from so many others — even other fat bodies (why must my limb-to-torso ratio be so fucked?) When I attend rope events, I usually get tied up and have a wonderful time. But the entire time, I am aware that I am the exception (or, at least, one of a very few).

I am a problem to be overcome and solutioned. I am a challenge.

I know that am far from the only fat-bodied person with a passion and desire for rope. The adage that rope is for every body is true, but anyone with a nontraditional body knows how hard it is to step into a space that is not designed with you in mind. Rope culture, at least from my experience in the SF Bay Area, is dominated by specific aesthetic ideals that make it difficult as a fat person to not to feel inadequate. Unwanted. Too much but also not enough. And so, so many fat-bodied people simply don’t bother to even try because that fear of rejection — or even just being The One Fat Person in the room is too hard to overcome.

Many people know me for my rope photos. I have done incredible ties with incredible riggers. I’ve considered rope bottoming to be a primary passion in my kink journey for ten years. And yet … I’ve found it terrifying to approach new people to tie. I’ve burned with shame as my frustrated top couldn’t follow along with the lesson because my body just couldn’t tolerate that position. Last year, I spent twenty minutes crying in my car after attempting to go to a rope jam as a solo bottom and swore off ever doing that again.

Fat Rope Lab has entered the chat

You can imagine how fast I smashed the “buy ticket” button when VoxBody Studio posted an event called “Fat Rope Lab for Fats & Friends.” Taught by the incredible Ceci Ferox from Berlin with demo bottoming by amermaidrenegade, this lab focused on tying fat bodies. Not only did they discuss and demonstrate rope for different body shapes and weights, but also how things like softness/firmness of fat can play a part in the ways your body handles rope. I found myself equal parts rapt with attention and exhilarated the entire evening.

Rope events by and for fat-bodied people and allies are the missing piece of the puzzle. It’s a puzzle I’ve been trying to figure out how to solve now for a couple of years, and last week’s Fat Rope Lab presented that errant piece on a gloriously beautiful platter. I learned more in one evening surrounded by people who shared my lived experience than I have in a decade of attending rope events.

Not because the events I’ve attended in the past were in any way lesser. I’m constantly in awe of the breadth of instruction available in my local area, and I’ve taken some kickass classes from instructors the world over. However, few if any have ever centered on rope for bodies like mine. For once, I wasn’t subconsciously monitoring my body and comparing it to every other person in the room. I wasn’t watching a person who looked nothing like me get manipulated in ways that just aren’t possible for my body. I wasn’t waiting for the primary lesson to finish so the instructor could point out the ways to work around problems like me.

I learned that most of the fat on my body is soft instead of solid — and how that impacts the way my body interacts with rope.

I learned why certain ties and suspensions I’ve tried in the past were unsustainably uncomfortable, and why I could have stayed in others for days.

I learned how to advocate for myself as a fat rope bottom, especially when it comes to guiding my riggers on how to manipulate my body parts to ensure comfortable and secure ties. Squish and pull, folx!

At the end of the night, the best way I could sum up the experience was this:

For once, I felt like I was exceptional instead of the exception.

And I am not an exception. Nobody is, or should be made to feel as though they are. We are all exceptional, and every person with an interest in getting tied up and doing fun shit with rope should be empowered to do so. Not only that, they should be able to do so in an environment which takes into consideration the unique ways their bodies can adapt and perform.

I’m super excited at the possibilities that can come from creating more events like this one. Not only for fat-bodied rope bottoms, but anyone who’s ever felt like they weren’t fit to be tied. Rope is for every body — and it’s time to put action behind that mantra. Thank you to everyone at VoxBody Studio for the work you’ve done to make rope more accessible. I can’t wait to see and experience what comes next.