MIR28, the annual International Rubber contest, is a weekend like no other. For those unfamiliar, it’s like "Miss America," but without gender exclusions. Instead of ballgowns, it’s latex, harnesses, boots, and much much more. The purpose of the contest goes far beyond aesthetics; it’s about choosing a titleholder who will represent the rubber community on a global scale, promoting values of inclusivity, advocacy, and service. Like a pageant winner, the titleholder is expected to engage in outreach, build community, and advocate for safer spaces within the kink world.
While standing on the stage at MIR28, the largest platform for the Rubber/Latex community, was a surreal experience. As I looked out into the sea of faces, I felt the weight of my purpose: to amplify the voices of those like me—Neurodivergent, Trans/Nonbinary individuals—who often get overlooked. This wasn't just about me; it was about our shared experience and the importance of creating safer spaces where we can exist fully and freely.
What made this experience truly unforgettable was the genuine love and heart shared by every competitor. We weren’t there to outshine each other; we were there to rise together, lifting each other up every step of the way. It wasn’t about winning or proving who was best, but about seeing the beauty and strength in each of us and encouraging that to flourish. The bond we formed during MIR28 was unlike anything I’ve ever felt—deep, raw, and real. We weren’t just fellow contestants; we became family. We saw each other for who we really are, validated each other’s struggles, and celebrated every victory, big or small. It wasn’t just a competition; it was a powerful experience of belonging and unconditional support that transcended everything else.
Competing at MIR wasn’t just about gear or performance; it was about bringing my intersectionality to the forefront. As a Neurodivergent person, the world often feels like it’s operating on a frequency I can’t quite sync with. But in rubber, I find a balance. The sensory experience of latex against my skin, its tight embrace, and the quiet it brings to my mind—it grounds me. This space was one where I felt completely in control of my comfort and identity, something I often struggle to achieve outside of the kink community.
As a Trans/Nonbinary individual, being visible on that stage was an act of resistance. My presence was a reminder that people like me—those who don’t fit neatly into societal boxes—deserve to be seen and heard. Competing was not just a personal achievement but a moment to represent every person who has ever been told they don’t belong. I stood there for us all, for the marginalized within the marginalized.
Then, there was my Spicy Bootblack Fantasy. Performing this at MIR was exhilarating—a blend of sexuality, power, and play, deeply rooted in the craft of Bootblacking but elevated to a new level. In front of a crowd that understood the nuances of kink, I felt free to push boundaries. I embodied sensuality and dominance, showcasing the eroticism of Bootblacking in a way that honored both the leather and latex communities. The act of cleaning, polishing, and caring for boots is intimate, but I spiced it up—introducing elements of seduction and flair that kept the audience on edge. It wasn’t just a performance; it was a celebration of connection and trust, of knowing how to walk that line between service and power.
MIR28 gave me a platform to express the many layers of who I am—not just a competitor but a Neurodivergent, Trans/Nonbinary, unapologetic Bootblack. I hope that by being on that stage, performing my Spicy Bootblack Fantasy, and being part of the first open-gender class, I contributed to creating a safer space for people like me. Spaces where we can be celebrated, where our identities are strengths rather than deviations from the norm.
For me, it was about showing that we can be kinky, bold, and proud—and still advocate for inclusivity and safety within our communities. MIR28 was a powerful reminder that our intersectionalities deserve to be at the forefront of these spaces. And I couldn’t be prouder to have stood there and done just that.
Photo by: Magnus Wynter
https://inclusivetherapygroup.com/blog/mir28-international-rubber
