On Twitter today, @nellodee and @wilhelminawang had a conversation in which @wilheminawang expressed desire to come “out” (of the closet) with regards to the sexual aspects of her life, but also expressed concern that the result of doing so would be socially damaging. She said she feared that coming out would mean Internet searches for her real name would result in uncovering naked pictures of her. Since being naked on the Internet isn’t the whole of the image she wants to portray to the public, she was understandably concerned about coming out.
This is a concern that I hear expressed time and time again among people who are involved with any number of cultural issues, be it alternative sexuality or even just starting a job hunt while you’re still employed. It all boils down to wanting to keep some information private without necessarily keeping it a secret from absolutely everyone; you can’t actually go on an interview without your interviewer knowing you are looking for a job, but you also don’t want your current boss to know that you went on an interview. What to do? There are a couple issues all wrapped up into one here and, since I can’t tackle them all in this one blog post, I’ll only focus on some.
In both the example of the job searcher and the alternative sexuality practitioner, there is the same notion of a “closet,” of being “out” about some piece of information they would like to have some control over. But as with most things in reality, things are not always so cut-and-dry as we might wish they were; the closet isn’t something you are either in or out of. The closet is not a binary.
(As an aside, at KinkForAll Washington DC next weekend, the lovely lady at FollowsTheSun.com is going to be giving a presentation called Wandering Out of the Closet – Stories from a slow trip Out, which I suspect will be her take on this issue, or a similar one. If you’re in or near Washington, DC next week I strongly encourage you to come to the free KinkForAll Washington DC unconference and attend that presentation.)
I’m an example of someone who is completely out and transparent. Google my real name and you’ll get some information about my sexuality work. You’ll also probably find a link to this blog, and maybe even some naked photos within a few clicks. (This is left as an exercise to the reader). However, since I’m much more than a sexual organ, you’ll also get a ton of other information, such as my web development work, my presentations regarding culture, technology, and society, and a range of other things.
I chose to live a transparent life, to come “out” because I believe being out is a safer place to be than being in the closet. Make no mistake, I’m no altruist; I do what I do because doing it makes my situation better than not doing it. The reason I am so strongly supportive of other people choosing to live an open life is solely because coming out of the closet is a vaccine against blackmail, emotional abuse, and shame. It can be a scary process if you’ve been living in the closet for a long time, but I wholeheartedly believe it’s worth it. Being out gives you control over how people find and see you. Otherwise, you give up that control to someone else.
But the fundamental question @wilheminawang had remains: how do you make sure that your non-kink stuff shows up on google before the kink stuff?
The answer, actually, is stupidly simple: I create more “non-kink,” non-sex content on the Internet than I create sex content. As a result, when you look for me on Google, you’ll find the amalgamation of everything I put online, not just sex stuff. In other words, creating an image of yourself on the Internet is no different from doing so anywhere else. If you present a certain way most of the time, that’s the image most people will have of you most of the time.
Could you find the naked photos of me by doing a google search if you tried? Absolutely, but notice that those naked photos aren’t the ones that show up first. Why not? Because there are more photos of me online in which I’m not naked than photos in which I am naked. Sure, if you were looking for my naked pics and actively filtered out all that other content I produce in which I am (gasp!) wearing clothes, you’d find them. Otherwise, to find them, you’ll actually have to sit through page after page after page of Google search results. And, humor me, when was the last time you had the patience to look beyond the second page of results when idly searching, again?
I realize this is painfully anti-climactic and not very stunning, but it’s the truth. If the only content you produce on the Internet is writing about the orgasms you have or don’t have, or how you got them or gave some to someone else, are you really that shocked to learn that’s what’s going to come up when someone googles you? Likewise, are you surprised to learn that I also have a day job, that I’m interested in more than just writing about sexuality, and that my online presence reflects these other interests, which you can find when you google my name, too?
You shouldn’t be because, just like you, I’m much more than a sexual organ. I’m a thinking, feeling, self-empowered human being, one with opinions and experiences that range far, far beyond the narrow chasm of the (exciting yet superficial) mechanical aspects of human sexual responses. Therefore, I would be doing all of you a grave disservice if the only part of myself that I made visible were the details of my physiological sexual responses. Moreover, I would be doing myself a disservice, too.
Unlike many “sex bloggers,” I don’t often write play-by-play descriptions about what happens when I have sex with lovers, or about how many fingers or dildos or whatever was inside this hole on that body or what. The only value of such things to me is to relive a pleasant encounter or, for my readers, to vicariously experience it. And while that’s all fine and dandy, it’s a pathetically insignificant portion of who I am as a person. And—guess what—Google knows that and reflects that because I told the Internet about all of me.
It’s not an accident that when you google for me, the first result you get is for my homepage. It’s also not an accident that my homepage has nothing to do with this blog. It doesn’t even have the word “sexuality” on it. My résumé is also pretty high on the Google search result pages, and again that’s no mistake. I pimp my résumé under my real name stronger than I pimp this blog under that name. Why? Because I’m actively thinking about how people find and learn about me. Regardless of whether you are out or not, you should be thinking about this, too.
This kind of thinking about one’s own presentation is extremely important because it’s the most valuable currency in the world today. Tomorrow’s money is not going to be printed on paper or plastic, but rather on the content you produce and make available to the public: if it isn’t already, your blog is going to be more valuable than your job. As telecommunications technologies continue to shrink distances, globalization will continue to drive our value-creation systems towards something a lot of people are calling a reputation economy (although personally I’m not a huge fan of that phrase). In fact, an industry is beginning to form around this concept, called online reputation management.
Many people who blog about fringe cultural issues like alternative sexuality are on the forefront of grappling with this transition. That’s what’s really at the core of @wilheminawang’s question when she asked how I managed to keep a professional presence on Google and yet still be completely out. Folks like her are often frightened of connecting their real identity with their alternate online persona, yet it’s the marriage of those two identities which is where the real value in tomorrow’s currency lies for them, just as it did for me. When I merged my two online identities, the (not-quite-)sex blogger and the web developer, I suddenly found myself making more money, getting more job offers, and, what’s more, they were the kinds of jobs I could feel comfortable in! It was a huge win for me, and possibly the best thing I ever did for my career and safety.
Let me be clear: I don’t think merging one’s identities is something everyone must do. There’s a time and a place for everything, including this. But I do think that if you do it mindfully, the benefits radically outweigh any possible concerns you might have. That being said, if you choose not to come out on the Internet as “the real you,” you need to understand that you are never truly anonymous. Everything you write can and will be traced back to you one day. The greatest danger of the Internet, in my opinion, isn’t the prevalence of porn or the potential for silly cat pictures, but the illusion of anonymity it gives to laypeople.
So in conclusion of this relatively rambly, quickly thrown-together blog post, to come out online you need to understand that Internet search engines don’t rank the content you produce by any scale other than its relevance to the search phrase. If the only content you produce online—content that, whether you know it or not, will never be fully anonymous and will be available forever—is going to be about the sex you have, then people are going to think of you through the only narrow, single lens you’ve given them to look at you with. If, on the other hand, you present yourself to the world wholly and authentically unashamed, then people will be far more likely to see you for who you are as an authentic person.
It’s critical that you take responsibility for your own image, and that you maintain whatever balance you find appropriate for the kind of content you produce in the world. Since I do more non-sex stuff on the Internet than I do sex stuff, the sex stuff gets pushed down underneath the things I create and promote with more impact, such as my web development work, or my social commentary essays regarding culture and society. Furthermore, even within the sexuality content I create, only a fraction of that content (of which this post is a part) is about explicit sexual activity. If you’ve been a long-time reader of this blog, you’ll notice that while you will occasionally find me writing about sexual experiences, not even those posts are devoid of introspective thought, reflective analysis, or social commentary.
In other words, the vast majority of stuff I choose to put online has lasting value. It might as well, because remember, it’s going to stay online forever. Are you sure your blog is representing you the way you want to be seen? If not, maybe it’s time to write about something else for a change.
Additional resources
Unsurprisingly, there’s actually a whole ton of information about this topic available online. If this is something that concerns you, I encourage you to read the following resources:
- Managing your reputation through search results – most of what I discuss in this post is basically referencing the third point in this blog post from Google, “proactively publish information.”
- Online Reputation Management: 16 Free Tools – this is a listing of online services and other tools that can help you monitor references to you from across the Internet. I use a number of these services, which I refer to collectively as “my Internet radar.”
- Bad Reputation: Doing Damage Control On Your Internet Profile – This recent post basically reiterates a lot of what I said, citing that
[y]our best bet is to make sure that there’s lots of good information about you on the internet.
It’s also got some practical how-to tips thrown in for good measure.
If you’ve got some more links to resources for this sort of stuff, please share them in the comments, and I’ll update this list with your suggestions.
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by Meitar Moscovitz (maymaym) 's status on Sunday, 15-Nov-09 01:08:34 UTC - Identi.ca
14 Nov 2009 at 17:09
[…] http://maybemaimed.com/2009/11/14/online-reputation-management-for-sex-bloggers-when-a-tweet-wont-d… a few seconds ago from web […]
by Bitsy
14 Nov 2009 at 19:13
I wonder how this is different for a technologist then for people in other lines of work. My field (thought this is soon to change) doesn’t expect you to have web page, for you resume to be online, or you to be good at creating content at all.
I’m not very good at creating online content (communicating through writing is far more challenging for me then other ways of commutating). Consequently for me and for many other people who aren’t much online, the content do have will be look over more thoroughly as it will take far less digging to get to the bottom of it. I choice to deal with this by only being semi public when I put things out (using filters and the like), but how to deal with this topic when there isn’t much out there about you is a different subject.
by maymay
14 Nov 2009 at 19:28
Although different industries have different levels of sexual freedom acceptance, I believe that the benefits that come with being out of the closet are not industry-specific. Moreover, I also believe that learning how to present oneself well online isn’t limited to textual media, just as the Internet isn’t limited to textual media, either. (That said, being able to write well is an incredibly valuable skill, and that pre-dates the Internet.)
Just because you might be in an industry that doesn’t require you to be good at creating content online doesn’t mean you can’t benefit from learning how to do it. And finally, of course, if there’s not much about you online when you start thinking about this sort of stuff, then you actually are in a better position than if there is a bunch of stuff about you already, because you essentially have a blank slate with which to work.
by Wilhelmina
14 Nov 2009 at 20:37
thank you for the post, maymay :)
have you read “immortality” by milan kundera? this makes me think of it, a lot.
i’ll comment again when i’m more mentally together
thanks much
~ wilhelmina
by Clarisse Thorn
15 Nov 2009 at 13:18
Hmm ….
While I agree with you that the benefits of coming out aren’t industry-specific, I think that doesn’t actually answer the problem of how different industries are more or less kink-friendly. I think your advice to come out is great for a techie but would be really terrible for, say, a teacher.
I also think you have an advantage in that the kink work that you’ve done is the kind of thing with considerable crossover potential for your line of work. Quasi-anarchist unconferences, for instance, are at least as popular an idea in tech as they are in kink. I feel like there’s lots of kink organizers/bloggers out there whose kink activities are highly likely to be irrelevant to their line of work.
I do agree with you broadly speaking. I even think it is likely that I, for instance, will merge Clarisse Thorn and my real identity sometime in the next few years. It’s just that … I don’t know, maybe it’s the emphasis in your post that feels off to me, more than any of your actual assertions. To quote an email exchange I had recently with YesMeansYes blogger/essayist Thomas Millar — he said, “I saw what happened to Jack McGeorge. That wasn’t twenty years ago, or ever ten — it was seven.” Cite yourself as a success story all you want, but don’t forget the failure stories, too.
by maymay
15 Nov 2009 at 13:26
I’m a “success story” not from some magical happenstance of luck, but because of the hard, painful work of people who have done what I do before I did it. So I challenge you to define failure. Jack McGeorge‘s story is actually exemplary for this.
If by “terrible” you mean they lose their job, maybe for the first bunch of teachers to do so. But for the hundredth or thousandth? Everyone needs to start somewhere. And moreover, I think you’ll be surprised.
by Clarisse Thorn
15 Nov 2009 at 13:47
I think failure can take a variety of forms … for some people merely being dragged into the limelight is going to be failure, whether or not the consequences get as drastic as job loss; whereas for some people it’s no big deal. I don’t pretend to know whether McGeorge himself thought his case was an outright failure, but from what I understand it was pretty harrowing at the very least (note, for instance, that he offered to resign a job he worked like crazy to get; he ultimately didn’t have to, but only because his boss was European). And there’s a consequence that you aren’t addressing that has nothing to do with employability: child custody. Which can still be hard for — say — gay people even today.
If by “terrible†you mean they lose their job, maybe for the first bunch of teachers to do so.
Dude, check your privilege! Losing your job actually can be terrible, especially for someone who’s not young/flexible/highly skilled, especially in today’s economy. Anyway, I’m not trying to argue about the exact scale of injustices or issues (or even, again, with your actual assertions) — just saying that your post didn’t feel even-handed to me.
by maymay
15 Nov 2009 at 13:55
Which is why it’s so damn important for people with the “privilege” of not having to worry about offspring being forcibly taken away from them (like me; I have no offspring), and who are self-sufficient financially and otherwise, to come out. What good is my privilege if I’m not going to use it to give other people the same benefits I enjoy?
Of course this isn’t “even-handed;” this is a guide for people who are choosing to come out online, not a guide about choosing or not choosing to do that. This is for people who want to do it but have concerns, not for people who haven’t decided one way or the other. Like I said in the post, there’s a place and a time for everything. It’s up to you to choose when the right time for you to come out of the closet is. I refuse to take responsibility for or impose decisions upon other people’s personal choices.
by Clarisse Thorn
15 Nov 2009 at 14:02
Your tone is your own, of course, and I respect that. But I think that if you’re someone people look up to, whose lead people follow, there’s responsibility built-in to be as even-handed as possible. This may not be intended as a guide for whether to come out or not, but I could see it influencing people in that direction anyway.
by maymay
15 Nov 2009 at 14:06
I hope it does. What’s wrong with that?
by sera
16 Nov 2009 at 20:29
I think this is brilliant and required reading.
Re: “I think your advice to come out is great for a techie but would be really terrible for, say, a teacher.” I’m not sure that’s right, at all. It depends on what level, for one thing. It’s not clear at all to me that it’s a problem for university teachers–chelseagirl has discussed her own experience of being outed while teaching. It also really depends on what one is writing about and what one is doing. Say you’re a high school sex ed teacher, and you have an educational sexblog geared toward teens. I don’t see that merging your personal and blogger identities would create a problem.
I’m hardly the first person to notice the increasing hysteria our culture has around kids. But I really don’t think it helps to buy into that culture of fear. I don’t think that’s privilege speaking. I think that’s principle. My view is that the “what about the children?!?!” question is perhaps a little (needlessly) inflammatory.
by Clarisse Thorn
17 Nov 2009 at 03:26
I hope it does. What’s wrong with that?
OK, let’s back up a minute. I already said that I agree with your points. So obviously I don’t think it’s too intrinsically terrible if your post influences people to come out … what I’m worried about is people not having an accurate picture of the consequences.
Maybe it will help if I explain myself using another example. If I wrote a post about how awesome play-piercing is, then I’d feel obligated to link to resources on how to do play-piercing safely. Or suppose I like having my nipples pierced (I don’t, ugh, but just suppose), and I post about that without noting that it’s quite possible to do permanent damage to them that way: would that be a little irresponsible of me? I’d think so. Not because I’m opposed to play-piercing, or piercing nipples, but because I think that as a sex blogger who people look up to, I owe it to the audience to give a full picture of the risks they run if they do things I say are awesome..
Again, your tone is your own. Again, I admire your agenda in general. And since it seems that I have to say it again, again, I agree with you. I’m just worried about informed consent, that’s all.
by maymay
18 Nov 2009 at 09:57
Thanks, Sera.
Clarisse, I do understand what you’re saying and that you agree with me. :) As I mentioned earlier, I think harping on the potential dangers of being out is neither here nor there with regards to this post, just as harping on the potential dangers of play piercing would be neither here nor there if you wrote a post on how awesome play piercing is. I don’t expect every single blog post I read to contain cautions and disclaimers; that’s not the kind of shrink-wrapped, warning-label world I want to live in or perpetuate.
I think this was stated succinctly by @knitmeapony and @diabola on Twitter:
(I’m not calling you a privileged jerk, I’m just quoting the tweets, which I think are relevant.)
by James
22 Nov 2009 at 22:05
Maymay, I like those succinct tweets, but I have to step in and back Clarisse for a moment here. No, it’s not your responsibility to educate, but once you start educating it is your responsibility to do so in a complete, thorough and honest manner which your audience will fully understand.
That said, I do think that Maymay was good about, after an initial plug for the value of complete transparency, mentioning that his post focuses on how to make sure “that your non-kink stuff shows up on google before the kink stuff.” While I agree with Clarisse that this perspective is largely a product of a privileged working environment that, in no way, renders it invalid. It just is an important part of framing the concepts and values presented here.
Finally, I have a lay question for Maymay. I already know that there’s no such thing as true anonymity anymore – not on the internet or anywhere else for that matter – but I’ve been working on the belief that it’s reasonable to think that no-one will ever care enough to do the work and dig enough to find the things I don’t want found. Is that reasonable, or are there hordes of malicious people prying into everyone’s personal life just for fun?
by maymay
24 Nov 2009 at 07:53
That’s a really good question, James. I can’t claim to be 100% certain of the reality in all cases because factors like “the things you don’t want found” and “no-one who cares enough” are really difficult to quantify. And they’re probably also different for different people. I do have a generally optimistic outlook about this, though: I don’t believe hordes of malicious people prying into people’s personal lives for fun is the norm.
To use an analogy, I recently watched an episode of Penn & Teller’s Bullshit! called “Stranger Danger.” In the show, they cite statistics that say in 2006, there were 115 incidents of strangers abducting kids reported to law enforcement. Of those cases, 50% resulted in the death of the kids. Now, that’s a tragedy, but it’s also only about 50 kids in a country of 300 million people, 75 million of which are children. So that’s a 1 in 1.5 million chance that you (or your kid) will suffer such a horrible fate. The upshot is that, while it’s certainly understandable to fear such a circumstance, if you live your life worrying about a 1 in 1.5 million chance, you’re not going to have much of a life to live.
Similarly, while there are certainly people willing and able to do you harm on the Internet, I see little reason to let the fear of potential damage stop me from reaping the proven benefits of honesty.
by Clarisse Thorn
26 Nov 2009 at 01:32
I agree that the people who would actually do such a thing are few, but they are out there — cf. the Jason Fortuny incident (God I hate that man). Given this, I favor a philosophy of “harm reduction” and “informed consent” whereby people are told about exactly what risks they run by being out, by responding indiscreetly to Internet personals, etc, and how best to avoid those risks.
by Philip Clark
27 Nov 2009 at 08:07
I really enjoyed this post, especially the points in bold type. I’ve been sexblogging openly for eight years and it has brought many surprising opportunities. As far as I’m concerned there is no downside.
Of course everyone’s situation is different. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have to worry about being discovered.
by Wilhelmina
01 Dec 2009 at 05:16
finally i’m responding to this properly!
i appreciate you writing this post. you might be interested to know that shortly after those tweets, i decided to begin the coming-out process: http://heartbreaknympho.com/2009/11/16/baby-steps/
some of the things that you mentioned briefly in this post were reasons why i decided to do this. i’ve always recognized that internet anonymity doesn’t really exist. i’m sure there are technologically-savvy ways to trace my “anonymous” work back to me; but that aside, i knew that if someone tried hard enough, they could piece enough information together to figure out who i was. while my anonymity provided the security to say things that i otherwise wouldn’t be comfortable saying, i was constantly worried about whether or not i was censoring enough information, whether i was effectively preserving my anonymity. i also recognized that if someone *else* outed me, through blackmail or otherwise, that person would have control/power over me, and by outing myself, i would be taking control over my own image.
i find a lot of your points interesting, although i don’t know when, if ever, i will actually connect my real name with my blog name. i think i’d be happiest working at a place where sexblogging and expression of alternative sexuality didn’t even matter, or if it was considered okay, and i’m actually very interested in working for an org. centered around gender/sexuality/LGBT issues/sex-positivity. so the sex-related material i have out there might even turn out to be an asset rather than something i have to hide :)
so far, i’ve outed myself to the people i write about in my blog, and to some of my friends, and they are obviously spreading the news to other friends, too. i’m not making any effort to announce my status as a sexblogger from the rooftops. but if someone asks me about it, i’ll tell them. and perhaps not everyone who i know will find out, but that’s fine. i don’t feel this pressure, this worry, to hide anymore, and it’s a big relief. concerning the people who i’ve written about, it’s actually created a lot of positive dialogue between me and them, which is great.
as a response to a few of the previous comments about how coming out is a big risk: sure it is, for the first few people who *do* it, but those people will pave the way and make it so much easier for other people who follow. challenging the status quo may be difficult, or risky, but it needs to be challenged, imho. in this case, at least.
by maymay
02 Dec 2009 at 23:47
And you never have to. It’s up to you how to manage it. You’ll note, my real name only appears on this blog a scant handful of times. I don’t keep it a secret, which is what makes the difference, but I also don’t pepper every post with it. That’s purposeful.
Exactly.
by Clarisse Thorn
03 Dec 2009 at 12:56
about how coming out is a big risk: sure it is, for the first few people who *do* it, but those people will pave the way and make it so much easier for other people who follow. challenging the status quo may be difficult, or risky, but it needs to be challenged, imho. in this case, at least.
Exactly.
Yes, obviously — but that’s so facile! Saying that it’s time for people to come out, or that the first people who do it will pave the way for later people, doesn’t actually address the question of making sure that people know the consequences; it sidesteps it. (And we can’t say that the consequences of being out about something like BDSM are necessarily so obvious that it’s ethical to just exhort outness and not warn of the potential consequences. Lots of people don’t know about the child custody cases, for instance.)
by maymay
03 Dec 2009 at 16:48
That’s because it’s not the whole story, Clarisse. Can any blog post be the whole story? I take issue not with the content of your message but with the criticism you seem to have that failing to encompass the entirety of an issue in a single blog post is irresponsible of me. Totally fair criticism, but it strikes me as somewhat off point.
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by Maybe Maimed but Never Harmed › My impressions on the new “sex-positive social network” Blackbox Republic
12 Dec 2009 at 21:50
[…] simply, and noting that I’m probably not the majority case here, I rely on my “Google résumé,” to use Sam’s words, to live the life I want. My lukewarm reaction to this isn’t a […]
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by Coming Out Swinging… | Life on the Swingset
21 Mar 2010 at 23:44
[…] go digging. So I’m reminded of something I read on Maymay’s blog late last year: The closet is not a binary. We don’t have to be “in” or “out.” We can straddle the […]
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by Maybe Maimed but Never Harmed › KinkForAll versus Stop Porn Culture: guess who’s filthier!
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by Naked on the Internet, take II «
19 Jul 2010 at 20:53
[…] and consolidation, or who were out-ed by others, with disastrous results. Others have managed to use it to their advantage. And, obviously, there are grey areas in between. On the other hand, employers and institutions […]
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by BEG
04 Apr 2011 at 14:39
Just a note; using an image for your blog titles makes it really hard to copy and paste the titles accurately and renders such utilities as “copy as html link” useless :-P
by maymay
04 Apr 2011 at 14:49
The headers here are not images, BEG, they’re just text which are then dynamically rasterized. If you turn off JavaScript you’ll disable the rasterizing effect and be able to copy-and-paste more easily. Sorry for the inconvenience; it’s part of the theme I’m using & I haven’t the time to patch it quite yet, but I appreciate your alerting me to the issues you’re having with it. If you can, contacting this theme’s developer directly would help me out.
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by why do I use facebook when it is evil? | What's that you said?
04 Apr 2011 at 15:02
[…] opposite end of the spectrum in privacy is really the same thing, the management of online info: Online reputation management for sex bloggers; whne a tweet won’t do. In response to a question about being “out” online, maymay responds: But the […]