I follow a radical feminist blog who recently said that people who have kinks shouldn't be allowed into teaching, etc. I'm asexual myself but I still enjoy reading porn, and I honestly don't get off unless there's some aspect of dominance in it. I can't help what turns me on, right? I don't think it bleeds into my real life at all - I'm horrified by abuse in real life. I've experienced some myself, and I know how terrible it is. I just feel so guilty now for being turned on by kinky stuff. (1)
I didn’t get your (2), if there is one, and I feel like I’ve already said enough about how I feel about anti-kink arguments that don’t concern themselves with the difference between “men actually coerce women into submission” and “people of various genders engage in various forms of consensual play and fantasy.”
(Also, I’ve suffered abuse in kink contexts, and you know who came to help me? NOT THOSE FUCKERS. Ethically kinky people are the ones who actually showed up to support me.)
So I’m just going to say:
That is, no matter who you are and what you do, there is someone on the Internet who thinks people like you should be kept in dank caves away from polite society.
And it hurts so much worse when it feels like it’s coming from someone on the same “side” as you. Hell, I’m not immune to it; when people email me “lol u fat hairy feminazi suk my dick” I’m like “yeah whatever” and save it because sometimes I like to get drunk and read those emails in funny voices at parties. But when people email me “you are enabling abuse and oppressing women,” it hits me in a different, far more vulnerable place. When someone shares some of your values and disapproves of you, it’s a lot harder to brush off. And sometimes you shouldn’t. Sometimes you should question yourself.
But sometimes you just have to live your life. You have to come to the point of “my behavior is in accordance with my morality, I have questioned myself to my satisfaction, and now I’m done.” You have to go beyond “please, listen to my side of the story” and arrive at “I am so comfortable with myself, and so little interested at ripping my soul out for inspection every time a random stranger demands it, that instead of making myself vulnerable to this whole discussion I’m going to do a little butt-dance.”
I realize you’re not at that point yet. (There are many, many issues where I’m not at it myself.) But I want you to consider that as a goal. Not just answering the “am I a terrible person for having the wrong kind of sexual fantasies?” question, but having confidence in your answer, confidence to the point of even being a dick about it, the kind of confidence that becomes a shield.