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BY
DAN SAVAGE
I’m
from the other side of the country, but I’m sitting in my
lover’s San Francisco apartment wondering what I’m doing.
I flew out here to spend five glorious days with her. We connect
sexually (she’s a Dom stone-butch top, I’m a queer femme sub),
we connect intellectually, and we make each other laugh. I’m
head over heels for her and for this city.
But she’s literally twice my age. In no way does this bother
me. She’s handsome and wonderful, and I’m so proud to be with
her. But she frets that she’s too old for me and will die
before me and it isn’t fair to have the feelings we do.
I can hang on to this ledge, Dan, and not let myself utterly
fall for this woman so that she doesn’t break my heart when
she says we must part as friends. I think that is what is
coming. But I know she feels conflicted, and I can’t see anything
wrong with the two of us enjoying what time we have together.
The future is unfixed for everyone; you never know what will
happen tomorrow. Why deny something we both want, if it’s
what we both want?
If I have to just walk away from this with a slew of great
memories of a loving introduction to the greatest city on
earth, there are certainly worse things. But I wish I could
convince her to at least let us have a chance. How can I do
that, Dan? What on earth can I say?
—Lost
In Fog Everyday
Start
with the clichés—“Age is just a number,” “I could get hit
by a bus tomorrow,” “Someone’s gotta change your diapers”—and
finish with a grace note: You love her, and you want to be
with her, and you hope you’ll always be close, whatever she
ultimately decides.
That said, and forgive me for this, LIFE, it’s possible that
although this woman is what you want, you’re not what she
wants—for reasons that have nothing to do with age. She may
be pointing to the obvious age discrepancy because it’s a
convenient, face-saving out, a way for her to pull the plug
while sparing your feelings.
So a word of warning: If she wants out and cites age, you
may be tempted to press your case—and you should, up to a
point—but press your case too far, and she may wind up telling
you the inconvenient, face-squandering, feelings-spearing
truth.
I’m
a bi male in a long-distance, long-term, and hypothetically
poly relationship and I’m going to a speed-dating event soon.
Our relationship is “hypothetically” poly in that my boyfriend
and I have not had a third in a few years. I’ve had a couple
dates in that time (with both guys and girls), disclosed,
introduced them to my boyfriend, etc., and done everything
a good poly boy is supposed to do. I didn’t end up dating
any of them, just from lack of personality/sexual compatibility.
I’ve never been to a speed-dating event before, though, so
I’m not sure about protocol. I think that bringing up bi/poly
would make the whole five minutes (or whatever) about that,
and I’d really rather talk about mutual interests etc. Sexual
orientation is a rather overdone topic to me, and talking
about only that wouldn’t let me figure out if I’m even interested
in the other person. I’m not embarrassed by it at all (I’m
completely uncloseted); I’d just rather talk about more interesting
things.
So should I disclose during a speed date that I am (1) poly
and/or (2) bisexual, or should I save it for a follow-up date?
—Speed
Disclosure
I
tried to contact a few speed-dating businesses but couldn’t
find one with a contact phone number on its website—and that
fact, coupled with the Mountain-Dew-swilling-teenager-on-MySpace
quality of the sites themselves, kind of makes commercial
speed-dating services look a little tawdry.
Anyway, SD, disclosure is called for when a routine, obvious,
and logical assumption is incorrect. Since most people are
straight, the onus is on the gay person to come out. Since
most gay people aren’t morons, the onus is on members of GOProud
to identify themselves before getting disrobed.
Other speed daters are going to make the reasonable assumption
that you are (1) single and (2) gay or straight, depending
on whether we’re talking about a gay or straight speed-dating
event.
That said, SD, due to prejudices beyond your control—biphobia,
polyphobia—you may omit the bi/poly info about yourself on
that first five-minute date. But you’re obligated to disclose
before a second date is arranged. Not to spare the women and/or
men you might wind up dating from the unspeakable horrors
of going out with a bi/poly dude, but to avoid wasting time
on women and/or men who can’t handle it.
I
am a 19-year-old straight male who is only attracted to chubby
girls, though I myself am rather skinny. It took a while,
but I’ve learned to embrace this (though at first it seemed
almost as scary as if I were to come out as gay). However,
the problem I seem to have now is that the girls whom I find
attractive—big girls—don’t think of themselves as attractive,
and that is a turnoff for me. Despite what seems like constant
effort on my part to raise my exes’ confidence in themselves,
they never got any better and the relationships always ended.
I’m not exactly bursting with confidence myself, either, but
I tried my best to be a loving and supportive boyfriend. Yet
time and time again, their images of themselves somehow seemed
to actually turn worse, not better. I attribute a lot of their
initial insecurity to the media, but I can’t help but believe
I somehow screw up and exacerbate it.
—Troubled
Horndog In Need
You’re
young and you’ve accepted your attraction to bigger girls,
THIN, and that’s great. But the girls you’ve dated—presumably
close to your own age—are doubtless still struggling with
all the shit that’s been thrown at them about their bodies.
To grow confident about something that caused you a lot of
pain—to say nothing of being with someone who’s attracted
to you in large part because of that something-that-caused-you-pain—can
take time.
That said, THIN, if all the bigger girls you’ve dated emerged
from your relationship feeling worse about themselves and
their bodies… you might be doing something wrong. Were you
treating your girlfriends like human beings and talking about
their bodies in a way that made them feel attractive? Or did
you treat them like fetish objects and talk about their bodies
in a way that made them feel disgusted with themselves—and
with you?
I’m
a gay college student who’s into bondage and kink. I’m also
very involved with the Episcopal Church and want to become
a leader in my church. I don’t think that my predilection
for bondage and my desire to pursue ordained ministry conflict,
especially because I am fairly monogamous. Is there a conflict?
—Wannabe
Ordained Kinkster
I
don’t see a conflict, WOK, but I am not now, nor have I ever
been, the Archbishop of Canterbury. If you can meet and marry
a nice boy who shares your kinks, and you remain successfully
monogamous, and you have no desire to go to the Folsom Street
Fair or post play pictures of yourself on kinky personal sites,
I don’t see how your coreligionists will learn about your
sexual interests, much less be scandalized by ’em.
That said, WOK, um . . . I have nothing more to add. Fuck
Sarah Palin, go Bears, preorders: tinyurl.com/4f2g524.
mail@savagelove.net
Find the Savage Lovecast (my weekly podcast) every Tuesday
at thestranger.com/savage.
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