I was talking to a shrink the other day (never mind the context, but it’s probably not what you think) and the subject of fetishes and paraphilias came up, and that I had some interest in the area. “It’s so sad,” she said. “You just can’t help but feel sorry for those people.”

I was a bit shocked. Well, more than a bit. In fact, I thought her judgmental and pitying attitude to be quite astonishing. I wondered if we’d been talking about homosexuals, if she would have been so sympathetic and condescending. I mean, this was a shrink. She’s supposed to understand people. Are fetishists really to be pitied?

Having a fetish for boots or big tits is rather normal, I would think—no need for pity there. What about cross-dressing? What about balloon-popping? Shaving? Masturbating on stuffed animals? What about wanting to have a part of your body amputated? Now I can start to see her point.

A fetish originally was defined as something that could serve as a substitute for the a partner in sex. It was necessary and sufficient for arousal. Under such a definition, I can see where I’d feel bad for someone who could only get off while smelling shoe polish or being rubbed with silk, because it limits his freedom.

But these days a fetish is taken to mean any consuming sexual interest. Fetishes seem to expand our opportunities, not limit them. I should have told that to that shrink. I wonder if she’d change her opinion.