Stepping into the Hilton Rosemont hotel, I could feel eyes on me. Groups of attendees in an array of gear, from pup hoods to rubber catsuits to cotton street clothes congregated throughout the lobby, happy to see friends from events past. I stood to the side, iPhone in hand, heart pounding beneath my black rubber t-shirt. Where was anybody I knew? What if I didn’t know anyone?
I had spent the morning exploring Chicago with fellow kinksters pupneoca, locked_latex, and goldenhalo93, taking in the sights of one of America’s greatest cities. After registration, we all went our separate ways. While some headed to dinner, I wasn’t in the mood after a lunch of deep dish pizza at Giordano’s and a sampling of popcorn from Garrett’s. Instead, I headed back to my hotel room to recharge.
And so, after getting dressed in the slick shiny rubber, and with no concrete plans, I found myself in the lobby alone. The occasion? MIR 29: Rubberlesque. Kinksters surrounded me, but I was solitary. Thoughts raced. Should I approach one of the groups and introduce myself? Do I wait for someone to approach me? Do I see if any of the kinksters from Seattle or those I’ve chatted with more extensively online are around? I felt nervous, out of place, excited, and quite overwhelmed.
As it was my first time attending a large kink event, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Navigating the smaller rubber socials in Seattle had been difficult enough at first. This felt like leveling up in every way. The weight of trying to find my place at an event with hundreds of attendees bore down on me.
At first, my MIR experience was one of discomfort and shyness. But by the end of the weekend, I knew I had found my people. While I didn’t open up as much as I could have, I’m grateful for the connections created, the friends forged, and the memories made.
What is MIR?
Allow me to back up. What is MIR? MIR International Rubber Weekend is an annual event in the Chicago area where kinksters from all around the world gather to build connections, attend events and classes, and watch or compete in the MIR contest. The winner of the contest becomes a global rubber ambassador, representing the community at events for the next year.
2025 marked the 29th event, with the theme Rubberlesque. But, it was also my first time attending the event after many years of experiencing FOMO online.
Finding my place
Heading into MIR, I felt intimidated. At first, I thought I’d be fine. I felt confident because of my growing social media following. People at the event likely knew who I was, and I was sure a few attendees would want to say, “hello.” But, I knew most of the attendees would be people I’d never met or interacted with online.
But, as the event grew closer, I began to worry and reflect. I still didn’t feel like a real part of the rubber community. I only had some local Seattle events under my belt. Everything I had done was online. Would attending a large event like MIR make me feel like part of the community, or would it instead bring more feelings of inadequacy?
Exploring Chicago with some of the sweetest people I met during the MIR weekend dulled my fears temporarily, but there I was, alone, messaging people on Instagram instead of engaging in conversation.
Standing in the Hilton lobby, those fears grew louder. What if everyone I knew was busy? Would the entire event be this awkward? Would it be overly sexual, with only those who find me attractive wanting to chat? The illusion of MIR as this nonstop, joy-filled event where I’d make lots of new friends began to crack.
Things changed when I started to see familiar faces, people I’d only known through Instagram until now. Many were heading to prearranged dinner plans, but each brief interaction chipped away at my nerves. One interaction I want to highlight in particular is running into ateris.fl. I’m grateful for him inviting me up to his hotel room as he got ready for the reception, as it saved me from the lull in conversation and standing about awkwardly.
By the time we headed back down, the lobby and hallways were alive and filled with recognizable faces: illustriousrubber, rubbertfd, rbb_va, khalifath_vann, rubbrcage, gearcurt, and so many others. Conversations flowed, and I gained the courage to stay at the welcome reception until after 11 p.m. There were still awkward moments, but it no longer felt like I didn’t belong.
Embracing my rubber side and gaining confidence
If MIR taught me anything, it’s to be more confident. Everyone I met was wonderful and welcoming. I constantly found myself surrounded by those who wanted to ensure my first MIR was the best it could be. From the moment I walked over to the Hilton on Friday to when I got off the shuttle at O’Hare the following Sunday, I constantly challenged myself to open up.
For instance, there were two kinksters in particular who I was a bit intimidated by. Both are ridiculously attractive, and I convinced myself that maybe they wouldn’t want to socialize with me. When I approached both of them, they were so sweet. This gave me a confidence boost that maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad. Those small moments boosted my confidence in ways I didn’t expect.
Another major highlight occurred when dalton.noir, pup_query, and I did a photoshoot. I am used to taking my own photos with a timer on my camera. I hadn’t had a photoshoot in rubber with a photographer! Latexabb was amazing, directing and posing us to capture some really great shots. Seeing the previews on the camera screen, I couldn’t believe how good we looked. It felt good to relax a bit. For the first time, I wasn’t the one controlling my own image in rubber. Someone else was able to create art and offer a different perspective than how I normally see myself or do things. That’s powerful, and something that shouldn’t be taken for granted.
Later, I stopped by the photo line, and pup_rally also took photos of me. I can’t wait to see how they turned out.
As the weekend continued, I loosened up more than I typically do in a public setting. I drank some alcohol, which I rarely do, and especially not at events. I also found myself kissing more hot guys than I expected. Nothing quite boosts your confidence like a few make-outs in rubber.
My personal victories culminated with me deciding to wear my rubber singlet on Sunday evening. If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know that I rarely show off my body outside of full coverage rubber. While I’ve taken photos in my singlet, I’ve never worn it out. It just shows so much of my fur, a lot more than I’m typically comfortable doing. But, I decided to do so, and everyone loved it. So many wanted to touch my fur, and instead of shrinking away, I embraced it.
The MIR contest
Of course, my MIR experience wouldn’t be complete without attending the main contest. While I primarily attended MIR to meet people and get a chance to wear rubber with so many others, I wanted to attend some of the main events to get that experience. This included the Friday dinner and fireside chat with MIR 28, Rush, and the main contest on Saturday night.
Having met three of the seven contestants leading up to Saturday night, I eagerly awaited their performances. I knew they would be fun, but I didn’t expect to be blown away. From the burlesque performances to the singing, skits, and show-stopping moments, the event never stopped entertaining. In particular, I was stunned by the artistry and vulnerability that went into some of the acts.
Congratulations to Mx. International Rubber 29, Elliott Eve, as well as runners-up Magnus and Minos Munro.
Final thoughts
Attending MIR changed me. The conversations I had resulted in an epiphany: My rubber side isn’t some separate identity. It’s as much a part of me as any other facet, helping to make up the whole of what makes me who I am.
I’ve always lived in fear of others finding out, of being outed as a kinkster. So much so, that I originally wondered if I should wear a mask throughout MIR so that I never appear in any photos. But, I was able to let go of those fears. We shouldn’t be ashamed of who we are and what we like. So many people are welcoming and accepting and curious about rubber, and I think I put too much thought into unrealistic repercussions of what would happen if I was more open about it.
While I’m not ready to just post rubber content on my personal socials or have those conversations with most people in my life, I can see myself getting there eventually.
Being among so many like-minded people felt like finding a family away from home. I got to explore a new city, meet incredible kinksters, take part in creative collaborations, and most importantly, feel a deeper sense of belonging than ever before.
For the first time, I didn’t feel like I was performing in rubber as LatexRocker/Rubberium. I felt like I was living it as myself. I can’t wait to attend MIR 30 in 2026.
Note: Rubberium is the creation of rubber enthusiast and kinkster LatexRocker. All thoughts and perspectives shared are my own. This website doesn’t rely on AI or generated content.
