The questions We never asked, the people we never knew

Leadership within any community—especially one rooted in vulnerability, exploration, and transformation—is not merely about structure and logistics. It is about holding space. It is about knowing how to draw a circle wide enough to be meaningful, and how to decide where the edges belong.

Yet far too often, we default to exclusion as a form of control. Exclusion is sometimes necessary. But too often, it’s used without question, conversation, or clarity. Not to protect, but to avoid discomfort.

There is wisdom in caution. When it protects peace at the cost of presence, it serves ego more than it serves community.

I have watched organizers refuse access not because someone posed a clear risk, but because someone else said they might. I’ve seen community leaders use closed doors to feel secure, when in truth, they were avoiding discomfort. I’ve seen the word “safe” used not as a shield but as a sword—barring entry without ever asking a question. I’ve seen questions left unasked because asking is too much work.

What happens when exclusion becomes automatic? When we inherit judgments instead of forming them?

In those moments, leadership becomes performance. And the circle becomes smaller than it needs to be.

To lead well in kink, or any complex space, means knowing the difference between harm and discomfort. Between someone's story about a person—and the person themselves. It means asking questions before making declarations. It means being curious, not just cautious.

Let’s be honest: we’re not just managing people. We’re modeling values. Every time we turn someone away, we’re telling a story. We share our story about who we are, what we protect, and what we fear.

So here’s an invitation:

Don’t stop protecting your spaces. Be brave enough to examine how and why you do it.

Who might you become if you ask before you judge?