How to: Not Talk To Gay People About Sex

Do any of you have something that really just grinds your gears and gets you every time?  I happen to have a lot of them, and if I were to list them all it would require more time and dedication than I could ever hope to expect from any of you.  Consider this an act of mercy that I’m only focusing on one moderately upsetting thing for today.

I had this particular thing in mind for today, because it happened to me last night.  Sometimes being gay can really stink, and a lot of those times happen when you’re interacting with other (mostly heterosexual) people.  One of those interactions I despise is when someone decides it’s a good idea to ask The Question.  You’ve probably encountered it, either in a movie, with friends, hell – maybe you’ve even asked it yourself.  The Question is, for me, as follows: “What do 2 girls, like, DO, y’know… In bed?”

It’s almost always followed by lots of nervous giggling on the part of the asker.

There are a couple of responses that I use for this question, and the one I pick depends upon how well I know the person asking me, and how much I want them to not hate me.

In this case, I was at a bar, so I was able to be all, “I haven’t had enough tequila for this talk”, and that seemed to work pretty well.  (Other fun responses are things like, “Let’s go find out” and “Please shut your face”, but my favorite is, “Well that depends. Are we sleeping or fucking?”)
I’m not a particularly private person.  I’m loud, kind of annoying, and really obnoxious.  I’m outspoken about a great deal of things.  And yet, this one single question leaves me feeling utterly flabbergasted.  I really think this is a prime example of straight privilege, because nobody asks a straight couple what THEY do in bed, right?  Because everyone knows.  But apparently asking gay folks is not only a) super appropriate and acceptable but 2) going to give you an answer to apply to every gay person ever (because we’re all the same, duh!)

I was told that I handled the question like a champ, but I’m still really riled about it.  I also told the particular asker to check things out on the internet.  It’s a wonderful place and there are TONS and TONS and TONS (etc. etc. ad nauseum) of resources on how two ladies might get it on.  Betcha you’ll never guess what happened next.

“I FEEL DIRTY DOING THAT.”

But you feel perfectly alright asking someone you don’t know very well TO THEIR FACE about their sex life?

It would be completely different if this person were asking me about things to do to make one’s sex life more interesting.  I personally feel I have a lot of really brilliant sexytime ideas, and since I’m obnoxiously outspoken, I find very little shame in sharing them.  This, however, was a whole ‘nother scenario.

The moral of the story this week is pretty simple: don’t be an ass.  I don’t care if you’re drunk, I don’t care if you once asked a gay person in a pride parade and they answered.  I’m a different human being, and you should fucking respect that.

We’ll be back for regularly scheduled shenanigans later on.

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How to: Love Yourself the Right Way

HELLOOOOOO!

I’m breaking my hiatus because my hiatus is stupid and was imposed for no reason other than I was a little bit on the lazy side.  It’s true, dear readers.  I neglected you because I was bumming around playing video games.  And, y’know, college.

For my first post back, I wanted to talk about something that’s very near and dear to me, and that I take very very seriously.  Surprisingly, it’s not sex (although that’s a close second).

I want to get into what it means to love yourself.  I don’t mean the corny self-help book style of patting yourself on the back or giving yourself affirmations daily or anything like that.  I mean this on a deeper level, because I think “loving yourself” is a very subjective act.

***TRIGGER WARNING: EATING DISORDERS, SELF-HARM AND DEPRESSION***

For me, loving myself has many meanings.  It could be treating myself to a large iced mocha on a rough day.  It could be that extra five minutes in the shower.  I may be crazy, but sometimes “loving myself” means doing another set of a lift at the gym, because loving myself and pushing myself sometimes get conflated.  Sometimes I give myself an extra ten minutes of sleep before work, and that’s loving myself.

I didn’t always used to have such positive outlets for how I felt about myself.  Sometimes I still don’t.  I used to think that loving myself meant doing everything I could to be skinny like girls are supposed to be.  I didn’t do the greatest job of taking care of myself physically, and it took a toll on me in a way that I couldn’t notice back then.  When I got positive comments, I felt like I was flying.  It reinforced what I was doing (which was not consuming food), and it felt damn good.  When I didn’t get positive comments… I wasn’t very nice to myself.  I punished myself, and to this day I am extremely ashamed of this.

I don’t know when this changed for me, and I can’t promise that it will, because nobody can do that.  (If only…)

It turns out that I’m not actively trying to make you cry, and I’m definitely not searching for compliments or pity.  I want you to be aware that this acceptance of self is a process.  It’s a journey and it’s hard.  So, what does this have to do with you?

You never know where somebody is coming from in life.  You don’t know if that chubby kid goes home and tries to eat right and maybe has some other problems.  That weird quiet dude doesn’t need you to point out that he looks like he hasn’t washed his hair.  People are so acutely aware of their flaws, they really don’t need to hear another voice chime in and repeat them.

One of the most important things that happened when I started realizing I was worth more than cuts and starvation was that I became a nicer person.  When I was better to myself, I felt better and I passed that on to the rest of the world.  I’m not trying to be preachy and I’m not trying to brag about how great a person I am – I still have flaws, and maybe you have a different reason for being mad at the world.  It’s okay.

There’s that old adage that says, “you can’t love someone else until you learn to love yourself”.  I know it’s not healthy to base your worth on your relationship status.  However, I think there’s a very fine line between the healthy and unhealthy aspects of that.  For me, finding that awesome girlfriend of mine made me a great deal happier.  I’m about to sound EVEN LAMER (as if that’s possible at this point) and tell you that she has made me want to be a better person.

I wanted to share my experiences and opinions with you about this stuff for awhile, and I’m still not sure I managed to do it without sounding all “hurr durr look at how great my life is now”.  It’s important to remember that you ought to be kind to yourself.  Self-respect and self-worth are terms that get tossed around a lot, and it’s easy to get lost in the myriad definitions.

Take a good, hard look at what you view as loving yourself.  Does it harm yourself, physically or psychologically?  Does it harm someone else, physically or psychologically?  It doesn’t have to be a productive thing, necessarily (my coffee/chocolate consumption is hardly productive and mostly just delicious).

Be good to yourselves.  I think you’ll feel a lot better.