I always felt that I had a mission in life — I just never could figure out what it was. I worked a wide range of jobs that did not inspire me. I got an M.A. in English but did not feel fulfilled. I knew that I loved sex and reading, but no career paths captured my imagination. I ended up getting a Wall Street job and climbed quickly, eventually becoming a financial analyst for Morgan Stanley. Still, no sense of personal fulfillment, even with great pay and perks.

By my late 20s, I was writing and publishing in literary journals but still felt directionless, even after returning to academia as an English professor. But as I was doing that, I discovered something about myself. I was kinky. Really kinky. So, in secret, I began to explore the underground BDSM/fetish world. It engaged me in ways I’d never experienced before!

In 1987, while publicly teaching college and privately haunting BDSM sites online, I founded a forum for kinky people (Variations II) on CompuServe and transferred my research skills from literature to sex science.

I learned so much! And I loved every minute of it! The experience moved me to a new place in my life: I wanted to share my insights and theories about human sexuality.

The sudden thirst to help others inspired me to write Different Loving (with research partners William Brame and Jon Jacobs), published in 1993.

At a time when society still demonized sexual variety, Different Loving was intensely controversial.  It refuted myths and unjust stereotypes about sex. I had formed new, evidence-based theories.  They created a new contextual framework for BDSM and other minority sex/gender expressions based on science, history, and cultural studies. In tearing off the narrow lens formerly applied to sex study, I broke all-new ground in human sexuality by helping people to understand that diversity is the true norm for us all.

Suddenly, hundreds of grateful readers were writing me to express gratitude. They said the book had saved their lives and freed them of shame. Their letters made me realize that, Eureka! . . .