There’s this person I really like. We met on a dating app and things are going well, but any attempt to take things further, a first date, some light flirting, is met with anxiety. Cancelling a date we’ve planned and confirmed, not replying to flirty texts until I make the move to ask what’s wrong and what I can do. I’m trying to let them set the pace, ask them questions about how they’re feeling, trying to feel out clear boundaries, they’ve even assured me they’re still interested, but I feel shut out, blocked emotionally. Is there anything I can do to support them trusting me more? Maybe being less nervous of dating in general? I wouldn’t want their fear to get in the way of what feels like a genuine connection.
I was once in a very similar situation when single in my early twenties. I really hit it off with a girl I met on Tinder and felt like we had a genuine connection. We were flirty and funny over the app. Multiple times, we made plans to go on a date IRL. Multiple times, she bailed at the last minute or even intermittently ghosted. Every time, she’d re-emerge like nothing had really happened. Sure, she’d apologize, but the apology was usually vague and short and didn’t invite much conversation. Then the cycle would repeat. I was lightly frustrated, but I contributed to the pattern by never really asking directly about why she kept bailing. I’d ask how she was doing, how she was feeling, and if she wanted to keep talking (to which, she always enthusiastically replied in the affirmative). But I never asked: Hey, is there a reason you’re uncomfortable taking the next step?
She was certainly aware of her behavior. In fact, she became so anxious about having cancelled on me so many times that she eventually sent me a video of herself talking because she was worried I might think she was catfishing me since we’d never met or communicated over video. TBH, the thought had never even crossed my mind! I had dealt with her unpredictability by pursuing other folks on the app, even though there was a part of me that always longed to hear from her. (Sometimes, I wonder if her withholding behavior contributed to how invested I felt in her — not a great dynamic, to be sure!) Shortly after she sent that video, she opened up. She said she realized she wasn’t ready to date, even though she really thought she was. She liked talking to me, but every time things started to feel more “real,” she got scared. She was just off of a recent breakup, and even though she wanted to be ready to date again, she wasn’t. And her body/brain was telling her that every time she tried to make concrete plans with me, but instead of communicating it, she just bailed. Probably because that felt like the easier thing to do.
I don’t say all this to suggest that the person you’re talking to is going through the exact same thing or that they are not ready to date. I’m just using my own example as a way to demonstrate that it’s really difficult to know what’s going on with another person. In your case, it sounds like you’ve been more communicative than I was, giving them ample opportunity to open up or discuss their anxieties. If you haven’t yet, maybe explicitly asking: Is there a reason you tend to cancel dates/plans after we confirm? Make it clear you aren’t mad or judging their behavior but just genuinely interested in hearing their perspective. If they don’t want to share though, that’s also their choice, but it means you can make your own choice. You don’t have to keep talking to someone who isn’t able to match what you want and give in terms of intimacy and boundaries.
What’s hard about dating apps is that it’s easy to strike up an instant connection in terms of chemistry, rapport, etc. That can make it feel like there’s automatic intimacy and familiarity between two people, even when you’re in the beginning or casual stages of dating. It’s sometimes easier to open up over an app than it is in person. It’s not that it’s fake intimacy; it’s just different. It sounds like this person is perhaps more comfortable in that space but still have emotional walls up even there. I think a few different things could be happening here. It could be similar to my situation and this person isn’t really ready to date seriously but is on the apps to try to convince themselves they are. It could just be that this person is indeed just anxious and fearful of dating in general and takes more time to open up and commit. It could be that this person just is generally emotionally closed off in a lot of their relationships. And if that’s not going to work for you, then you can decide to move on to someone who’s going to be a better fit.
The only thing you can really do in terms of offering support is asking them what they need from you to feel comfortable. Any questions about how they’re feeling should be direct and explicit. Not just “how are you feeling” but “how are you feeling about our upcoming date” for example. Hopefully they will take the opportunity to be honest with you. But I do think it’s important to understand that sometimes people get on dating apps before they’re actually ready to date, because it feels like a low risk environment to do that in. It’s not fair to you as someone who is genuinely looking for connection and someone to date, but I do think it’s just the reality sometimes. I hope you’re able to find someone to have an open and intimate connection with — whether it’s this person or someone else.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
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My gf and I have been together 2 years, and when we’re alone everything’s great. But when she tries to interact with other people it goes poorly almost every time. She’s bad at reading social situations, and very oblivious about the way she comes across. Whether it’s playful ribbing that comes out mean or talking about sensitive topics that make others uncomfortable, things often goes sour, usually without her noticing. It’s to the point where my friends don’t want to be around her, and I’ve watched a lot of her friends pull away too.
I don’t know what to do. She’s a good person, and I know in my heart that she’s trying. It hurts me to watch her put people off and lose friendships, and it bothers me that I feel like I can’t introduce her to anyone without worrying that something’s gonna go wrong. I want to talk to her about it, but I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to “fix” her. I know her social skills aren’t my responsibility, but things aren’t getting better.
I feel stuck, and I’m starting to worry that everyone else is right to be uncomfortable and that I should run. What should I do here?
I understand your frustration here, especially because it sounds like your girlfriend’s perception of social situations is very different from yours. We all face social anxiety in different ways, and for some folks these social nuances are much more difficult to navigate. I can tell that you’re really trying to support her here. You’ve been together for a fair amount of time, and you’ve noticed certain patterns like any partner would.
What I want to bring into question here is the word “fix.” It seems like you might perceive her issues as a “problem” because you see her behaviors as something that need to be “fixed.” Even though you yourself used quotations around the word and therefore seem to understand it isn’t a fair way to approach things, the fact that you still used the word suggests you might think there is indeed something to be fixed here. This is further reiterated by the fact that I can’t really tell from your letter if your girlfriend has sought any advice or guidance about this. I want to challenge your thought process a bit. Can we really fix someone, and more importantly, should we want to fix someone? Doesn’t “fixing” imply that a person’s inherently broken?
What I want to further question is your sense of discomfort with how she engages with both of your friends. Does she feel like she needs to change? Does she feel discomfort in social situations, or are you wanting to change her behaviors because you’re uncomfortable? When friends pull away from her, how does she react? Has she asked for any help or guidance here?
You can talk to her about what you’ve noticed, but it should be completely without judgment. See if this is something that even bothers her. If it does and she wants support in social situations, you both can decide how you want to support her by following her lead. If she doesn’t want to change, or doesn’t see a problem, then I think this is a time where you can reflect on why you feel (embarrassed? frustrated? disappointed?) by her.
Just because someone operates differently from you doesn’t mean they’re wrong, bad, or need help. It simply means they are different from you, and your normal isn’t their normal. I want to empower you to reflect on your own biases so you can empower her to be her most authentic self. You fell for her for who she is, so help her celebrate her strengths and embrace her wonderful differences!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
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I was broken up with recently. It was sudden and unbelievably heartbreaking. Especially because from my end it seemed like it didn’t need to happen (common in these situations I’m sure). All that said it was relatively amicable and there’s no hard feelings on either side (I hope anyway). As painful as it is I respect their decision.
Among all the complicated things I’m feeling right now one that looms over the rest is a deep sense that I will never be as happy with another person as I was with them. I know this is ridiculously common after a break up but I can’t emphasize how real and mildly terrifying it feels at this moment. I know no relationship is perfect but you’ll have to believe me when I say it was a really wonderful relationship. I would hope they felt the same at least for some time.
I think a big reason for this is my very first queer relationship was deeply dysfunctional and I was often mistreated. I didn’t realize how bad it was until after it ended, and when it did end I was cast aside like I was nothing. I guess when you don’t have a reference for what’s healthy anything within the realm of “normal” is going to feel like paradise.
When I think of dating: all I have in my head is this belief that most people are just various shades of the worst aspect of my original ex or that most people don’t want the same things in life that I do or the people I do vibe with I wont be attracted to or [insert any other petty BS here].
I feel That my recent ex was a rare exception. I look at the list of things I loved about the relationship and things I know I need and it feels like an incredibly long checklist no one could hope to fulfill. And I can’t bring myself to accept anything less.
Even though I know statistically it’s possible I question if such a person exists or to have any chance maybe I’ll have to move to another city.
I have no issues being single right now but I worry even when I feel better and choose to date again I’m going to take this negative mentality with me and make the whole experience miserable. Not only that but if there is any chance of us being friends (I would like to but I don’t know how they feel right now) then this is something I’m going to have to deal with.
How do I approach dating in a healthier way? How can I deal with this particular mindset right now whilst I’m in the midst of post break up despair?
I know this is frustrating advice to receive when you’re still very much living in it, in those perilous swamps of immediately after a breakup, but this is one of those things that will feel less acute with time. Especially because the breakup was sudden, I understand why you’re clinging to the good parts of it and then extrapolating from that that you’ll never find someone who is as good of a fit again. This also especially makes sense given the context of your previous bad relationship. I do think time is going to help a lot with the healing process and with getting your mentality in a more positive and open place for dating again, but I think in the meantime, there’s still some intentional work you can do to shift some of your thinking and framing.
For starters, this is something I push a lot in these advice columns: I think we all need to shift away from the idea that the sole definition of a successful relationship is one that lasts forever. This relationship that ended did not fail. The fact that you felt so comfortable and cared for in this most relationship means it was a good relationship. It hasn’t ruined your ability to find someone else. And you’re not doomed to never find someone who makes you feel similarly. Mourn and grieve the relationship, yes. But also don’t view it as a failure or anything holding you back now. I think it’s actually a great thing that you’re so sure of what you want and need in a relationship in the wake of this one. That’s really important growth and self-knowledge that you’ve developed. And it should actually make it easier to start dating (eventually — whenever you’re ready!) again, not harder.
I know you write that you feel like your relationship checklist is too long for anyone to fulfill, but let’s shut that down as well. First, it’s technically true that it’s hard to find one person who can be every single thing we want in a relationship, but that’s true across the board for everyone — not just for you. It’s why friendships are so important when we talk about relationships; partners often can’t provide everything all the time that we need in terms of care, intimacy, etc. Second, I think it’s time to actually put this list to paper, if you haven’t already. And I think using a tiered system would be best. What are your relationship dealbreakers? What are the things that feel non-negotiable? Next, what are the things that are important to you that feel high priority that you would want a potential partner to fulfill at least 75% of? Next, what are the other priorities and desires you have for a relationship that matter but aren’t necessarily dealbreakers or that you can see yourself compromising on? By actually formalizing the list, you might see that, actually, it’s all pretty reasonable stuff to expect in a relationship.
When you do decide to date, it’s not like you’re going to present this list to a potential partner, but I think it’ll be good for you to have it in the back of your head. You can rule out people who don’t meet your dealbreaker needs. You can ask others what they look for in a relationship and see if that’s compatible with not only what you want but what you can provide. Be open to the possibility that some people might surprise you or not fulfill all your needs but satisfy the most important ones and go from there. Having “data” on yourself when it comes to dating is so helpful. And again, I think that’s another good thing you can take out of this last relationship even though it ended. You saw that you could find a loving, healthy relationship after a dysfunctional one. It was possible then, and it’s possible again. Knowing a lot about what you want in a relationship doesn’t make you high maintenance; it just makes you self-assured, actually. I think you can transform this lack of confidence about dating in general into confidence moving forward.
Again, I do think this will take time. You’re still healing from the breakup, and it’s indeed natural to feel this feeling of despair that you might never find happiness again. It is indeed a common post-breakup sentiment, but that doesn’t make the pain of it any less real or urgent. You were happy, and you miss that happiness. You wonder if you can get there again. I strongly believe you can. It’s not your long list of needs or your fear of replicating your previous bad relationship that are holding you back; it’s your seeing those things as impenetrable obstacles that is. It’s okay to bring a lot of expectations to the dating process, so long as you’re focusing on the things that are genuinely most important to you and not just self-sabotaging or turning your most recent ex into an impossible standard for others to meet.
Because you said it yourself: It’s possible you were romanticizing aspects of this most recent relationship because anything “normal” would seem like paradise after your previous one. I don’t think it would do you any good to focus on anything negative in your last relationship, but I think it’s important to remember all relationships have their compromises, their moments of tension, their things to work out over time, especially because we all change over time. Your needs or desires in a relationship can shift. Your recent ex was the right person for you until that was no longer true (because even if the breakup was initiated by your ex, that still means the relationship fit was no longer working, because you don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with you — or at least, you shouldn’t).
Give it time, but also put some real effort toward reframing and taking pen to paper to write what it is you really want in a relationship. Then step away from that and give it more time. I’m rooting for you to find that happiness again, and I feel strongly that you will. Listen to yourself. Don’t shut down your own needs before you even have a chance to see if they can be met.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
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Hello! My partner and I have been together for 6 years. We started dating in uni and they’re my favorite person. About a year or two ago they started having some pretty serious mental health issues, and it heavily affected their libido, to the extent that we went from having sex quite regularly (a few times a week) to maybe once every four months or so. I’ve talked with them about their change in libido and they confirmed that it wasn’t unique to me — they went from having a healthy number of crushes on others to feeling very little at all beyond affection for anyone.
For the first year and change, I was totally fine — I’m busy enough and have enough in the way of toys and the like to take care of myself, but recently I’ve noticed myself becoming quite sad? Recently, they kissed me like they used to and I nearly started crying in our kitchen. I think I might miss the intimacy that comes with sex even if I’m ok without the act itself. I don’t want to ask them to do anything they don’t want to do, and I know it’s something they’re sensitive about so my question is: how do I talk about this with them? Do I talk about this with them? How does one foster the intimacy that comes with sex without having sex? We still cuddle a lot, and they give me plenty of chaste kisses and go on dates and all that jam — they really are my favorite person and I don’t want to impose myself or hurt them but I really do seem to be quite sad and I’d like to not be. Sorry if this is all a jumble, I’m not the greatest at articulating feelings or even questions.
Don’t apologize! I think it’s hard for everyone to articulate feelings like this and to formulate questions about really big life things. Writing into advice columns is a really vulnerable process, and I think it’s hard to ask the “right” questions, because these things aren’t easy to package or explain to someone outside of yourself, outside of your relationship. This issue is complex; you love your partner. You’re also sad about something that has shifted. Both things are true.
Both of these things are true, too: Your partner is not a bad person for having a lower libido (something that’s obvious and I know you already know). But you are also not a bad person for feeling sad about this change. Both of these feelings and experiences are valid, but that’s what makes it all so hard.
Sometimes in long-term relationships, our needs shift and/or our capacity to fulfill someone’s needs shift. In this instance, your needs for sex remained the same, but your partner’s capacity to fulfill those needs shifted (and it sounds like some of their own needs shifted as well, if they used to desire more sex). I think it’s completely fair and reasonable to have this conversation, to acknowledge your sadness without making it be about failure or incompatibility. Your partner has done nothing wrong, and I think if you approach them with that acknowledgement upfront, you should be able to have an honest and meaningful conversation about your own sadness and how your needs are important.
Then, together, maybe you can figure out ways to address the shifts. I’m going to assume you’re not really interested in polyamory or some renegotiated relationship structure here as you didn’t really ask about it. It sounds instead like you’d like to get to a place of experiencing intimacy in your relationship with this person without sex. Is your partner open at all to sexting or sharing sexy photos with each other or does that also feel like something they’re not interested in right now? (Which is okay! I ask these questions just as jumping off points for you to discuss with each other about what does and does not feel comfortable or desirable right now.)
As a side note, if you ARE interested in reading more about polyamory, we have a ton of resources on the site. It can feel intimidating and scary to renegotiate the structure of your relationship, but it can sometimes be really great for couples who are experiencing mismatched sex drives — a problem I also want to assure you is quite common. I’ve even written about it before. If you were to decide on a nonmonogamy path or at least discussing it with your partner, it in no way would diminish what you have with your partner. Also, it’s possible that experiencing intimacy with someone else could actually help unlock new intimacy with your partner.
When they recently kissed you “like they used to,” did you have a conversation about what the kiss felt like for you? I don’t think it’s a bad thing to point out the moments when you do feel intimacy in a meaningful way. You can frame it as something that’s purely rooted in affirmation and appreciation and not pressure for more. Instead of saying something like “I wish you kissed me like that more often,” try “I really love how you just kissed me.” I do think it’s important to advocate for your wants and needs in a relationship; I also think it’s important to be kind and empathetic toward your partner’s capacity to fulfill those needs. I don’t think you’re imposing yourself by saying when you enjoy something, and I don’t think it would be imposing to ask your partner if they’re willing to try some things like sexting, talking about sex rather than having it, and maybe other things that constitute physical intimacy like taking showers or baths together, holding hands, and more cuddling.
You should not feel bad for feeling sad (and I fear that guilt over feeling sad could be deepening the sadness!). Even if you decide you can’t be in a relationship that doesn’t involve regular sex, that would not make you a bad person. But I really do sense you want to make things work with your partner, and I value that. Couples therapy, regular communication about the things you’d like to try out, and letting yourself feel your feelings authentically could all do a lot of work here. I think if you approach conversations with your partner less from a place of “this is what I miss” and more from a place of “this is what I would like to try in order to cultivate intimacy,” then it could be really productive and fruitful for your relationship. Because then it’s not about a lack but rather about possibility.
Good luck; I’m rooting for you. I think sometimes people jump to the conclusion that a relationship has to end when these things crop up, but I don’t always believe that, especially when folks really do want to make it work. Incompatibilities happen in relationships all the time and are navigable with work, communication, and a willingness to try or do new things. I hope your partner is open to at least talking about things.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
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This is definitely a chaotic situation. I met a girl on a night out about 8 months ago, and we hooked up after some strong suggestion on her part. I am usually not a hookup person because I catch feels easily. After a few weeks of her saying first “let’s do it again” and later “she wasn’t ready for a serious relationship,” we settled into a friend pattern. We see each other all the time, both in groups and individually, as she’s started hanging out with people I know. Somewhere along the way, I caught heavy feels, but I also am trying to respect that she’s not in a place to seriously date, per that conversation we’ve had. I’ve tried to put up some solid boundaries in my behavior and expectations, but… We frequently spend all day and non-sexually all night together (the number of times I’ve ubered home when the sun is coming up…). She says that I am the person she trusts the most. A couple weeks ago, we hooked up again, which she initiated. She said some deeply wonderful things about a life with me, but then a few days later said again that she couldn’t do a serious relationship right now, and that she was scared of losing her best friend. About a week later, she started dating someone else (not particularly casually). I feel hurt, but am also cognizant of her telling me multiple times that she wasn’t ready for a relationship. We still also spend about 400% more time together than she does with her girlfriend. My friends are livid with her and insist I’m being manipulated and gaslighted. I’m confused and hurt and stuck. I know the answer is going to be me setting boundaries, and also I feel like I’m also at risk of losing a deep connection. Help?
A chaotic situation indeed! But one I can also assure you is both common and, while challenging, ultimately manageable — even if it ends with you technically giving up some things that feel good.
I have to say that I’m not totally in agreement with your friends that there’s gaslighting happening here, at least from what I get in your letter. Perhaps bits are being left out! Manipulation, I can kind of see, but I don’t see it tilting all the way into gaslighting, and I actually don’t see her behaviors as outright nefarious either. It sounds to me like you two have very incompatible needs when it comes to intimacy and relationships — needs so incompatible that perhaps your entire viewpoints on what intimacy is could be quite different! The sex could mean something entirely different for her than it does for you.
Technically, it doesn’t really sound like she has lied to you. She has said repeatedly that she’s not ready for a relationship, and I know that her actions to you might not line up with that assertion, but I think you have to believe her when she says it. When she talked about envisioning a life with you, perhaps she meant a life that looks like this — a sort of nebulous friends who occasionally hook up situation while mostly sharing intense emotional intimacy in the form of late nights and deep talks. She spends more time with you than with her girlfriend, but sometimes those are just people’s priorities in life. It’s possible that she values friendship that sometimes skirts into sex more than she values more conventional romantic relationships. I know you write that her relationship with her girlfriend seems like the kind of serious relationship she told you she was avoiding, but it’s really difficult to know the actual contours of someone’s relationship structure when you’re not part of it.
I think you could ask her about a lot of this, especially since you two are so close. How does she define her relationship with you? How does she view intimacy? Do you know how she feels about monogamy/polyamory/etc? Is her situation with you the first time she has been in a situation like this? These conversations might be difficult to have, especially because you have to accept the outcome that the answers might not give you exactly what you want, but I do think it could lead to better understanding about what each of you want out of friendships and dating. This could help illuminate that you’re not the right fit for each other romantically, which I know would be heartbreaking, but it could at least lead to potential closure and allow you to figure out if you’d like to start a new friendship with stricter boundaries (like no sex) or take even more space from each other.
Again, I don’t have all the details! So if she was actually like “I can envision a life with you where we are in a serious relationship” and then afterward was like “jk,” then yes, that is a different story! But in that situation, I can’t say I’d recommend continuing to be friends with her, because that is indeed very unfair and manipulative!
You know you’re not a casual hookups person, and yet you have ended up in a no-strings-attached hookup situation with her and have caught feelings. That’s all fine and normal! Especially because you already knew this tendency about yourself. The exact thing you thought might happen happened. But by letting her call all the shots, you’re taking away some of your own agency. If you know hooking up will make you feel sad and stuck after, you should really consider that before it gets to that point again. I don’t think it’s healthy or worthwhile to keep doing the same things with her and expect her to change her mind about what she wants. She seems pretty consistent in what she wants, even if it’s a bit confusing on your end.
You already knew the answer was going to be setting more boundaries, and that is indeed the best advice I can give. But I think you can talk to her first and figure out what exactly she means about not wanting a serious relationship and not wanting to lose her best friend. But most of all, listen to what you want. And if it’s something she can’t provide, you have to restructure the way you approach the relationship in a way that honors your own needs and desires. If that means a bit of a friendship breakup, that’ll be sad of course. But it doesn’t have to be forever. And there are plenty of in-between options, too. Try only hanging out in groups to see how that goes. Limiting one-on-one time and those late nights together could allow you to realize you connect in other ways that don’t feel quite as intimate but are still meaningful connections.
This all sucks, and my heart is totally with you. Who amongst us hasn’t ended up in the murky waters of a hard-to-define friendship/something more than friendship? You’re not alone in this hurt. But I think a reframing from your friends’ perspective of this person is actively trying to hurt you to realizing you have different needs and views when it comes to intimacy could actually release you in a way. I’m wishing you the best!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
What’s great: scores of my friends are having really great and meaningful moments of gender discovery and euphoria – finding new ways to dress that feel right, finding ways to express themselves more fully, getting gender confirmation procedures, trying out neopronouns, and generally finding gender to be an important and fulfilling area of their life.
The more I get to witness and participate in this, the happier I feel — but also the more disconnected I feel from gender as a concept. I have always hummed along assuming I’m a cis woman, but i have never felt strongly about that, and I’ve felt super uncomfortable volunteering “she/her” pronouns at work and other places — but I also don’t really want to switch to “they/them,” because the few times I’ve tried it out it doesn’t feel any more “right.” I don’t feel like a “woman” — and after talking to cis and trans women and non-binary people about what gender and “woman”ness feel like and mean, I don’t feel NOT like a woman either. I have a body that is pretty much universally gendered as “woman,” and while I hate that, I also hate the thought of making changes to my body. When I wear dresses, I don’t feel particularly at ease or uncomfortable or affirmed or dysphoric; when I lift weights and get swole, I don’t feel like I’m moving towards or away from anything.
For me, gender has always felt like something from the outside – a lens that other people use to interact with me whether I want them to or not. I keep trying to find the joy that I see other people find in gender identity – to find some wavelength that makes me feel more “me.” Identifying as a woman doesn’t feel right, but affirmatively identifying as “not a woman” also doesn’t feel right.
If this is being agender…what do I do now? I don’t know how to affirm my own opting out of something I never opted into. I don’t know how to express a lack of something. And I don’t know what pronouns I should use!!!
I feel very similarly to the way you feel about my own gender — I feel unsure when asked about my pronouns because I genuinely don’t have a preference, and “she/her” feels wrong, but “they/them” and “he/him” don’t necessarily feel better. I don’t feel like “a woman” (but also, referring to myself as a “girl” when I was younger felt much more comfortable than calling myself a “woman,” now), and I usually relate more to how non-binary people talk about their gender than I do to how cis or trans women talk about their gender, but that can depend on who’s talking. Growing up, everyone knew me as a tomboy and I was sometimes read as male, and that was fine. I’ve said for years that my gender identity is “lesbian,” which feels even truer to me than saying my sexual orientation is “lesbian.” Mostly, I don’t want to be perceived at all.
Which is just to say, you’re not the only person out there who feels ambivalent about their own gender or isn’t sure where they fit, or what to do about it, or who can’t connect to these ideas that are so meaningful for others in the queer community.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we might be able to let ourselves live in uncertainty. To know that just because a suite of labels exist for a certain element of our identity doesn’t mean every human soul will find one that fits them perfectly, or that we’ll find it by a certain age, or even that finding it will bring us euphoria. You say that your friends are “generally finding gender to be an important and fulfilling area of their life,” but it’s okay for you to not feel the same way about your own gender, or about gender as a concept.
That said, not being able to access the community that labels enable can suck, if that is part of what you are looking for. Feeling out of place in the category you’re assigned can be hard, too, even if you don’t know which category would suck less. I don’t know how to describe that strange, blobby, out-of-place sentiment, but I understand how deep the urge can be to reconcile it. I think, though, that there’s also peace to be found in just accepting that sometimes we will occupy spaces that aren’t perfect affirmations or reflections of who we are, because life is full of those spaces, and it’s unlikely you’re the only person in that space who feels the way you do about being there.
If you do want to explore this more, you could try simply A/B testing your gender — trying out different pronouns or different ways of describing your gender in different contexts or with different people, and see how they feel, if any of those get you to a place where you feel more yourself. You don’t owe anyone a linear narrative. It’s okay to change, rather than evolve — to try one thing and then pull back and then try that same thing again or something else altogether.
I hesitated for a long time to say “any pronouns” when asked to indicate mine for a bio, because I worried it was disrespectful or belittling to people who do use specific pronouns and are regularly misgendered. But I talked to some people about it and saw more and more people doing it themselves, and so I started doing it too, for the past year or so. Of course everybody generally defaults to “she/her” for me, but “she/her by default” is a fine place to be for me.
You know how there are people who are queer and it’s a huge part of their identity and they want to talk about it and find queer community and consume queer art and start whole entire websites about it, and then there are people who just like, date people of different genders? Maybe this is like that. Or maybe this is like sexuality itself — many allosexual people find exploring their sexual interests and having sex to be incredibly fulfilling and important and central to who they are, whereas asexual people wouldn’t necessarily find that same level of fulfillment. And then there are lots of people who are somewhere in the middle, there.
Neither of those comparisons are perfect comparisons, because gender is ultimately a thing that can’t really be compared to anything else, it is its own world of meaning, it is so elemental to how humanity has organized itself.
But maybe all any of this is, is a jumping off point.
When you say that you keep trying to find the joy that you see other people find in gender identity, maybe what I am trying to do here is ask you to give yourself permission to accept that you might not find that joy, and that’s okay. Maybe the joy you feel for your friends will be the most gender-related joy you experience, and even that, I think, is a lot of joy! But also, it’s possible that eventually you will, later in your own journey — maybe not right now, along with your friends, but eventually. I don’t know how old you are, but whether you are 25 or 75, it’s okay not to have it all figured out just yet.
Not every piece of who you are has to be part of an inevitable biological or psychological destiny that, with enough effort and introspection, you can accurately unearth and begin living within. Experiences change us, environments change us. The world changes around us and we change with it. All we can do is live with the truth as it presents itself to us, and do our best to find peace within the gray area, even if we can’t always find validation, or comfort there. Confusion is a wavelength too, after all.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
feature image by Zackary Drucker for The Gender Spectrum Collection
Hi, I’ve identified as a trans man since my mid teens (I’m in my late 20s now), and identified as bisexual pretty much all of that time. Recently, I’ve started to question if I’m actually attracted to men at all, and it’s really hitting me with a shame/fear/dread cocktail that I don’t really know how to unpack. I hit a lot of points in That Masterdoc™ (bullied for perceived lesbianism as a child that got me really ashamed of liking women, enjoying the attention I get from queer men attracted to me but bolting when they want to do anything about it, picking the men I’m ‘attracted’ to)… except I’m very sure I actually am just a trans guy gender-wise. The complications this throws in are:
a) I don’t know if I get to use the language of compulsory heterosexuality when it’s… not really that because of the genders involved? When the questioning floodgates opened, I remember one of the things that got me sobbing was that my bullies who called me a d*ke as a child were right all along… and I don’t know if I’m allowed to try and work up to using that as a word of pride in future?
b) I genuinely do not know a single trans man in my real life who isn’t attracted to men, so I feel very alone and also (as silly as it sounds) like I’ll be less of a “real” trans man if I don’t like men? The straight (/only into women — I’m aware some people in my position still ID as queer, which I think is where I’m headed) guys I’ve seen online are very invested/interested in straight culture in a way that I’m not. I don’t really know where I fit if I’m not really gay but I can’t ever really be materially straight either (and don’t want to be).
c) I am worried what only dating women will do to my self esteem. Part of the reason I think I fucked about with men (and even now I’m still kinda tempted to redownload Grindr) is queer men actively hit on me and make me feel like I’m hot. I know my female partners like me and logically must find me attractive, but a lot of them are very vocal and enthusiastic about their attraction to women in a way they aren’t about their attraction to men. I can sometimes feel like a lot of what I have to offer is competency based/about what I can do (especially because I only top and there’s an apparent top shortage) rather than me being desirable as a person. I worry if I stop sleeping or flirting with men, I’ll just be dooming myself to being (or feeling) sexually invisible forever.
What do I do with all these feelings? What language do I get to use? How do I try and find at least somebody else in the world who feels the same? Should I just keep flirting with men anyway because I like how they make me feel, even if I don’t want anything to come of it? I’m not really sure what to do about anything.
Thank you so much for writing in and for trusting us with this question. Okay, so I’m seeing three parts to this situation: 1) You need to figure out whether or to what extent you are attracted to queer men 2) You need to work through the shame/fear/dread combo you’re feeling about maybe not being attracted to men and 3) You need to figure out what you want to do with everything that you learn during these processes!
I’m actually going to start with unpacking the shame/fear/dread combo. First of all, trans, nonbinary and genderqueer people have a range of sexual orientations, just like everyone else, and despite what your social circle reflects, it is perfectly okay and normal and acceptable to not be attracted to all genders or to not be attracted to men. Plenty of people are not, actually, in fact, pansexual. Some people are just attracted to women. Some people are just attracted to women and nonbinary and trans people. That’s literally fine as long as you’re respectful and not shitty about it! In terms of dealing with internalized shame, I want to take a moment to unpack comphet or compulsory heterosexuality which you’re obviously familiar via the masterdoc. So, it’s typically used within the context of cis lesbians to discuss why many women might have trouble realizing they’re lesbians due to the overwhelming expectations around and enforcement of heteronormativity. However, we’re not just dealing with compulsive heterosexuality here, we’re also looking at compulsive cisnormativity and all the strict roles and binaries that cisnormativity strives to enforce.
It’s very okay to have feelings about not knowing yourself because of the pressures of the culture around you. It’s hard and often emotionally devastating even to face that because we aren’t allowed to feel comfortable as ourselves, queer / trans people often only learn things about ourselves later in life, well after people who’re aligned with cultural norms already feel pretty sure about their identities. I just wanted to hold space for that.
Then, there is something specific about the desire and approval of men, though, right? Not only were you made fun of for liking girls / not conforming gender-wise, but also, the attention and approval you get from other men is validating and maybe more so because it holds additional cultural weight. We’re raised and groomed to believe mens’ (especially cis men’s) opinions are more akin to fact: that if men think you’re attractive, then you have more value. This is both something that is tough to shake and also something that I think is really important to shake! You don’t need the approval or desire or even the love of other men to exist. You exist and are valid and hot and awesome completely outside of the realm of other men’s desire. We all exist and are valid outside of what anyone else is thinking. If the attention of queer men, however, is a thing you want and don’t mind getting, that’s perfectly fine, but I think that if you really spend time thinking about why you are so attached, that there might be some elements of this socialization mixed up in that. That might be part of the shame / fear / dread combo, right? You’re dreading a reality where you will feel unmoored without this attention. Unfortunately, in this case, I think the only way out is through.
Finally, you’re afraid of being attracted to women, of being a “dyke,” of being something you were made fun of for. Guess what, though? Being gay or a dyke or queer is awesome, and I do think that even as a trans man who’s attracted to women, if you want to claim language like “queer” or “dyke” or whatever you feel describes you, that’s perfectly allowed and well within the realm of things that people have been doing with language in queer community for ages! Being attracted to women, to trans people, to nonbinary people — it’s a great way to be! We’ve dedicated a whole website to living in that world! I also cannot emphasize enough how it might be time to expand your friend circle a little. It’s important that you are able to talk with people with shared experiences and to be able to bounce ideas, thoughts, feelings off of each other. I’m sure your friends are awesome, but there’s nothing like sitting down at a table and just having a long ass conversation with someone who’s going through similar things.
Okay, so, *are* you attracted to queer men? You mentioned that you like flirting, but that you find yourself “bolting when they want to do anything about it.” Unless you have some fear or trauma around being with men sexually, I do think that if you aren’t really able to overcome any nerves in the name of desire that…the desire might not be there. This is especially going to be reinforced for me if you find it easy or easier to engage in physical activities with women, if you don’t feel like bolting. So, I want you to ask yourself, are you actually into the idea of having sex with men, or is that not something you fantasize about, think about or want? It’s okay to say that it’s not!
So, what to do about it? I think before you get back out there and flirt with any men, that it is going to be really imperative to sort out how you’re feeling. Try to see if you can learn to cultivate a deeper appreciation for your own sense of your value, and get out there and meet more queer people! I recommend going to queer dance events, to meetups, to pick-up sports games — whatever your speed is. I think you’ll find that surrounding yourself with other people who are living their best lives, whether they’re actively dating or single but who are in community and therefore aren’t all alone forever, will be healing and comforting.
I also want to address something you mentioned with your women partners not being as vocal about their attraction to you as they are with their women partners. Have you ever spoken to them about this? I think that if you wanted to bring it up, you could mention that you really enjoy compliments and words of affirmation and all those good things. What might also be needed is a discussion about what kinds of words and compliments you like to receive and how you like to be talked about. AKA do you want to be called handsome? Do you hate being called cute? Providing guidelines for partners can help them feel more confident when it comes to showing you that kind of appreciation, and then you’re getting your needs met, too!
When it comes to feeling like a person, not feeling used, I do think it’s important to communicate and to think about what kind of boundaries you need for that. Do you want to go on a couple dates before you have sex with someone, for example, so that you feel like you actually know each other? Do you want people you’re having sex with to also be up for texting and flirting with you? Are you communicating with partners about what you get out of and enjoy about topping and then seeing that reflected when y’all are having sex? Are there other things you can ask for and communicate to your partners and potential partners? I think that figuring out what you actually need and then being up front with it is a good strategy. In this article, Vanessa reminds all of us that TOPS ARE NOT VENDING MACHINES, and I agree and it’s not a way you should have to put up with being treated. So, at the end of the day, if a partner is treating you like a vending machine, it’s okay to walk away. You don’t have to accept that behavior and you can be up front about that. putting up with shitty treatment is not an effective strategy for avoiding loneliness — it just means you’re going to be spending your precious time on people who are shitty to you while people who would treat you with respect are out there, not getting any of your time. Cool people who will appreciate you as a whole person exist, and I believe you can find them.
Lastly, a return to the flirting with men question. Can you? Should you? I think the answer is simple. If you want, you can definitely create profiles and say that you’re only down for flirting right now. Just be clear, set boundaries and expectations, and trust that other people are grown ups. (They won’t always act like it, but that’s not your problem). But I am gonna caution you to only do this if / once you sort out the whole deep-seated desire for male validation thing.
Honestly, I’m excited for you to do some processing and to start to really refine what you want out of your sexual / romantic relationships. You’ve really, truly got this and I’m rooting for you.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hey homies,
I’m a lil lost gay reaching out for y’all’s words of wisdom.
As the story usually goes, I met a gal during a hoe phase when I was both getting slutty and opening myself up to dating again after mucho support from my therapist and chosen fam and mucho mucho self work. Didn’t think it would amount to anything, but then we totally hit it off in an off the charts kinda way.
We’re both interested in seriously dating, but are both recovering serial u haulers who are consciously trying to take it slooooooow. Oh, god, and we’re long distance. Which I am very okay with, I have no idea how she feels about this.
I have been seeing other humans until recently when on our last date she made some comments about how she’s ‘pretending not to know,’ about me seeing other women, when asking what some bruising was from by going ‘which girl did this to you?’ I honestly assumed she didn’t care about me seeing other people, as early in getting to know each other she encouraged me to date around to get a balanced scope, which I took and ran with.
My friends hilariously and unplannedly held a ‘fuck boy intervention’ for me the night previously, in which it was highlighted that while yes, in the first few weeks of getting to know someone it is real healthy to date around, going on many dates and getting increasingly serious with multiple, monogamous women was… not the vibe.
I’ve gently tapered down my other dating commitments, because if I’m being real and vulnerable I am super interested in this human. I think she’s awesome in so many ways, love spending time with her, and at least so far our values and visions align in a way that seems healthy.
BUT. When the fuck do you have ‘a conversation’ about these things!? I don’t specifically need her to be my girlfriend and put a label on it NOW, but I am seriously interested in being exclusive with this human. I was gonna wait until the next time I’m in her part of the country in six ish weeks to have that chat in person, but also I don’t super adore the idea of this human seeing other humans, and know that she feels similarly about me seeing other humans I’m like, does this mean I should declare my intentions sooner?
Taking it slow has been really good for me, especially as I’m trying to work through my anxious attachment style and work on self soothing when feeling anxious, but I just. Don’t. Know!
Any words of wisdom would be fucking stellar.
Xoxo
Recovering fuck boy who is TERRIFIED of intimacy
Hello, hi! It sounds like taking things slow and working on yourself and your anxiety are definitely great steps to take, and I commend you for reevaluating the way you approach relationships. I do think your friends were perhaps a little extra for staging a “fuckboy intervention” just because you date around, as it sounds very much like you’ve never set an expectation of exclusivity for yourself or for any of these women you’ve been dating — including the one you’re interested in becoming exclusive with. But so long as your friends seemed to be acting in good faith and just sort of messing with you, I’ll allow! I think sometimes people are made to feel like “fuckboys” when really they’re just regular people with regular intimacy issues! I can’t identify any actual fuckboy behavior from what you’ve written in your letter. So I don’t think you need to be too worried about that in particular! It sounds like you’ve been honest, and yeah, taking things slow is actually a nice thing and doesn’t equate to emotional distance, which is what I associate with fuckboyery.
Also, for what it’s worth, meeting a gal during a hoe phase is common and delightful! I’d argue my fiancé and I met each other in respective hoe phases.
So now, it really seems like your central question here is: “When/how does one have the conversation about being exclusive with someone?” My answer is: Right now, my friend! I understand the impulse to want to have the conversation in person, but six weeks is a long time to wait. While I think ending things is necessary to do in person, I don’t think the exclusivity convo is something that requires it. I do think you could do this face-to-face over FaceTime or another form of video chat if that would feel better for you. But I worry that if you wait six weeks then feelings of jealousy or resentment could fester. If you’re already feeling negatively about the idea of her seeing other people, you shouldn’t just push that down. You want to be exclusive, so you should make that want known now instead of existing in this limbo space. If it helps put your mind at ease at all: My fiancé originally asked me to be her girlfriend via text message in a very funny way. We were also long distance, and it made sense for us to have this convo over text vs. in person, and I was glad she did it then instead of waiting. Also, you def don’t have to put a label on anything when you talk about exclusivity! That part can wait. You can just say something along the lines of “hey, how would you feel about being exclusive, because I don’t really want to see other people anymore.” That also allows her to talk about what she wants.
There are a few things in your letter that suggest a little work might need to be done on the communication front. You note that you are comfortable being long distance but have no idea how she feels about it. That seems like an important thing to talk about! Long distance is hard! I think you should ask her outright how she feels about long distance and how she envisions your relationship moving forward. I worry she is expressing a bit of jealousy when asking what your bruises are from and referencing other girls. It’s not a glaring red flag by any means, but it does seem like some check-ins might need to be done around boundaries, what you both want, and what long distance feels like for each of you. I think this can easily be done when you initiate the conversation about wanting to be exclusive. I understand your fear of intimacy is likely playing a large role here, and I support you taking things slow, but slow still means communicating. Slow still means making sure you’re on the same page.
When you talk to her about wanting to be exclusive, make sure you’re also asking what she wants. Keep an open mind. Be clear about the boundaries and rules of your relationship, as it seems like there may have inadvertently been some confusion or haziness up to this point. To be clear, I don’t think you have done anything wrong, and I again think your friends might be overreacting with their intervention. But I do think that it would be good to set some clear intentions and parameters for your relationship moving forward. And that should feel like a two-way street of you both expressing what you need and want and making sure that’s compatible.
Keep taking it slow! Asking for exclusivity isn’t moving too quickly if it’s what you really want, and it sounds like it’s what you really want. I would do it sooner rather than later — not because you need to speed things up but rather because I think it’s best to articulate your wants in a relationship as they arise. I also think it’ll be a good opportunity to check in with each other and talk about how you’re both feeling. Good luck!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
feature image photo by Luis Alvarez via Getty Images
Lately, I’ve been really missing the intimacy and consistency of church. I have one very close friend whom I see pretty often. But other than them, my social circle feels pretty shallow as far as closeness goes. It’s been hard to feel constantly rejected but then again I don’t wanna be resentful as I also get being busy and tired in this v draining world! I feel hurt though and I don’t know how to tend that feeling. I don’t have the time or money to start a hobby group/regular outing. And the issue is more with the friends that I do have, rather than a lack of ’em. All of my friends from v different places, and bc of code switching (btwn queer, poc, cishet white) + social anxiety, I’m not super comfy at the thought of chilling w all my friends at once (also I live semicloseted w homophobic fam so finding a space is an issue, esp wintertimes).
It also feels like such an isolating issue, bc I don’t wanna talk about it in a way that feels like pressuring/guilting my friends to chat/hang out more! I don’t really feel comfortable in spiritual places so that’s not it. I’m just nostalgic for a social infrastructure for deep friendships, where you can just hang out low pressure (/no planning!!!) several times a week and say I love you brother/sister/sibling knowing that you are loved back. I’m neurodivergent (bpd) and miss the established social protocols! And I’m very very slow to trust/thaw (literally YEARS) around new people (side effect/overcompensation of psychiatric treatment for borderline I think).
How can I build meaningful and lasting friendships? How can I open up to people more quickly but still gradually enough to be healthy and natural? And how do I avoid veering into resentment when I feel like my local queer community is flaky af?
Thank you!!
I really see myself in what you shared with us and all the questions you’re asking. I, too, come from a religious and spiritual background that I was actually extremely invested in. Overtime, I grew to let go of that label and embrace more of a holistic spiritual practice. Similar to you, the whole reason I held on to spiritual communities so tightly is to ensure a safety net of those deep familial friendships. For me, it’s all about the community, and it sounds like you might feel the same way. We aren’t alone in this feeling, so why is it so hard to find? And why does it take so much time and effort to replicate that same sort of community in a non-spiritual space? I’ve been asking myself that for years.
I’ve moved all over the United States (and world), and I’ve put in countless hours to create spaces like this. When it comes to queer community, especially queer POC community, it always starts off promising, but it never gets to an intimate level. I often feel like I can’t ever find a cross-section of all the things I’m looking for. There’s no world in which I could bring all my friends together in one place for the same reason — it would involve too much code switching and weird social dynamics. Even if you wanted to bring all your friends together, it sounds like it wouldn’t be the most ideal with your living situation. In addition, you’re neurodivergent which adds a whole layer of complications I understand because I have bipolar II. Before I found the right medication cocktail and strict lifestyle regimen, it was really hard for me to plan or engage in anything social.
I’m gonna be honest and tell you I don’t have all the answers for you. I’ve been searching for them myself. I have a few ride-or-dies, but they all live states away from me, and it’s not like they could just come over and doom scroll alongside me for hours; an effortless type of friendship that requires no limits, no masking, no social energy. However, we both know that doesn’t just happen. Over my many years of moving around and making new friends from scratch, I’ve taken on the mentality that I must meet the universe halfway. If you put yourself out there and — for lack of a better word — force friendship to happen, intimacy will grow. That’s a lot easier said than done, and it’s not necessarily guaranteed to work. At the end of the day, it’s almost like a game of numbers. We date around to find a soulmate (if you’re monogamous), and eventually one sticks. Finding those really deep friendships are the same. Most of them aren’t going to be super ride-or-die solid. If you’ve been friends with someone for a while, and the intimacy isn’t there, I honestly think that it just means they’re a different level of friends. The ones we’re talking about are special people. It’s not to say that you don’t need or want other friends, but there are certain friendships that are almost magical.
Knowing where each of your friends stand can lead to a slippery slope of — as you put it — “veering into resentment.” When people don’t show up the way you want them to, it feels personally hurtful and then adds more weight to the hopelessness you’re already working through. Maybe this isn’t great to say, but I’ve built up a lot of resentment over my own flaky AF friends. I’ve also been the flaky AF friend. On my better days, when I don’t feel like holding a grudge and being petty, the way I avoid cultivating resentment is by remembering all the times I didn’t show up for people (I was extremely depressed). I know what it’s like to choose not to do something with a friend because the idea of leaving the house feels impossible. It has nothing to do with the friend who asked me. So, when I’m the friend getting ditched, I try to think about the bigger picture of what might be happening in their lives, and sometimes I even send a text like “hey I know things are really hard for you right now…if you want I can drop food off or we can literally doom scroll in each other’s company and not say a word to each other.” Taking all expectations out of social engagements sometimes helps.
For me, it’s just helpful to categorize my friends into tiers of “closeness” and know who I can go to for what. A YouTuber I used to follow once said her rule of thumb is to only publicly share 10% of what’s going on in her life. When I’m out meeting new people, I like to play by that rule in terms of emotions and trauma dumping. I won’t bring my trauma or concerns or sadness into a new friendship, but rather, share more relevant feelings, like the loneliness that exists in our world in 2023. It’s only 10% of all the big feelings I’m feeling in that particular moment. I’m not kidding when I say I’ve gone up to people and said “hey I just moved here, and I’m looking friends. How do you make friends in this city?” Or even “Are you looking for friends?” It sounds creepy, and sometimes it comes off that way, but I often just try and engage with people in a very real way. Most people in their adulthood who don’t have a family or a spouse are also struggling with making friends.
I’ve assumed you’ve looked through your local groups like book clubs, meetups, Facebook groups, or even local bar events. The key to all of these is not necessarily what it is but the consistency in which you show up. Overtime, intimacy will build just by seeing the same faces on a regular basis. I might be going out on a limb here, but have you reconsidered what joining a spiritual space could look like? I don’t say that to trigger you, but it’s something I’m currently considering myself as an ex-religious person. Spirituality can look different for everyone, and I’ve often found that even going to places like a social justice group within a Unitarian church or a yoga class or even a pole dancing class regularly helps build that sense of community. I’ve found a similar sense of companionship by redirecting my energy into something that feels like it’s productive in more than one area of life.
I wish there was an app for this specific issue, but it’s really about compatibility and timing. A lot of it isn’t in our control, and we can only put so much energy into what we can control. I’m sorry if this wasn’t the answer you were looking for, but know that you are not alone in feeling this way.
I’m a nonbinary femme and recently, I’ve started to feel quite bad about my gender presentation.
I’ve always loved playing with femininity, and I’ve always been very femme, wearing dresses and lipstick and the likes and it makes me feel really good about myself. Being femme, for me, was always connected to being nonbinary because the feminine presentation, to me, was something that I put on and not something that I was. I felt like femme was my gender, not woman.
A couple of months ago, I started coming out as nonbinary to friends and coworkers and I changed my pronouns from she to they/them. It did that because it bothered me that friends and coworkers would often refer to me as a girl or a “lady”, like “hey beautiful ladies” when they sat down at our table. I wanted them to be a bit more aware of my identity, so I told them and in those first conversations they were accepting.
However, the misgendering didn’t stop. Only a few people made an effort to remember my pronouns. I don’t remind them all the time but sometimes I do, but it doesn’t have any effect. Two friends have even told me that because of my appearance and my body (I’m female assigned at birth), to them I do still belong in the female category (as in my sex is female while my gender can be whatever I want). It hurts me when people say something like that because I want everything about me to be perceived as non binary, also my body.
Another friend had a negative reaction to my outfit at her birthday party. She had stated in the invitation that people should dress up, so I wore a suit, to which she said she was disappointed because she was expecting me to wear something “girly” like a dress. I know she’s being rude, but what I just don’t understand is why someone who knows I’m nonbinary and whom I had conversations about my gender identity with can still say something like that. It makes me wonder if maybe she wouldn’t have said it if in my normal day to day life I wasn’t as femme as I am. Maybe then it would click for her that I really am non binary.
As an effect, I’ve noticed that I’ve developed some body image issues. Like, now when I look in the mirror and I see myself with lipstick, I feel like the lipstick is the reason people misgender me and perhaps it’s unreasonable of me to ask people to validate me as non binary when my appearance is so femme. However, dressing more masculine in my day to day life doesn’t feel good either. So I feel stuck. Sometimes I even question if I should be non binary at all, because why can’t I just be ok with being called a woman, it would make it so much easier and also most non binary people I know have a very androgynous or masculine appearance.
Do you have any tips for me on how I can navigate all this?
Hi, friend. I want to start by saying, unequivocally, that it is not unreasonable of you to ask that people gender you correctly. You’re absolutely right that your friend was being rude when she mentioned her disappointment over your outfit, and that shouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t your fault, or your responsibility. You deserve better.
But these issues run deep, so I hope you’ll bear with me as I dive all the way into this. I have a lot to say!
I’m thinking of my own childhood, when I wanted to change my name to Crystal Diamond, when I never felt fancier than when I wore a ruffled dress adorned in ribbons. This was back in the days of camcorders, and one Christmas, my dad set up the tripod in the corner and just let it record for hours. There are presents under the tree, I’m waiting for our other family members to arrive, and some choral arrangement is blaring from the stereo. My dress is white with red bows. I am six years old and dancing, dancing, dancing. I twirl, I skip, I spin. I time a dramatic leaping entrance from the foyer to “Carol of the Bells.” I have no sense at all of being observed. I am fully and completely myself.
This memory comes to mind because I am not femme now. The last time I wore a dress, I felt uncomfortable every minute. These days, dressing in femme-coded clothes feels personally fraught, reminding me too much of the ways I’ve performed gender, the people I’ve pretended to be. It feels even more fraught than being masc-presenting, although both roses come with their own particular thorns. (It’s funny, isn’t it, to be human? I wonder if there is any other animal with such a persistent awareness of others, any other mammal who incorporates external perceptions so solidly into their sense of self as they grow.)
I’m thinking of Andrea Gibson’s poem, My Gender is the Undoing of Gender. I’m thinking of how when it comes to clothing, “gender neutral” always just means masc. I’m thinking of the money I’ve burned through this summer because surely all my problems will be solved if I simply find the right pair of swim trunks. I’m thinking of the Tiktok filter that gave me a full beard, and how much I wanted to adorn that person in a crown of wildflowers, soft leather sandals, an embroidered linen dress. I’m thinking of the long pink skirt from the dress-up bin that I wore as a strapless dress when I was little, one of the hanger loops around my neck so I wouldn’t trip on the hem. I’m thinking of the femme clothes I might want to wear again if I have top surgery, hanging in a little dream closet next to all the buttondowns I’ll buy.
And I’m thinking of the stars, which look to us like simple points of light in the dark sky, easily defined, no more mysterious than a candle, when in reality they are gorgeous, complex, and ever-changing. I’m thinking of how we didn’t get to see the complexity of a nebula for centuries. I’m thinking of how our perception and understanding of the stars must surely still be shaped by the constraints of our science and technology, even our culture.
Gender, presentation, and how those intersect for you may be the work of a lifetime. I know it will be for me. And isn’t that how it should be? After all, you are not one fixed and knowable thing. You are so much more than what any one person outside of you can see. You are starstuff.
Here is what I know: You are not accountable to any other person in this world for your being, your gender, or even your presentation. Your work is not to make yourself more palatable to those who might misunderstand you. Your work is to be your glorious full self, too complex, too variable, to ever be pigeonholed by any other person on this earth.
And yet! We live in a society. Connection is important, and feeling seen is vital. Other people hold up mirrors that help define our reality, and when there are only distorted, non-affirming mirrors looking back at you, I know first-hand just how destabilizing that can be. The friends you’re describing to me aren’t just being rude; they’re also denying the reality of who you are right to your face. No wonder your sense of self has been shaken.
If you feel that these friends are worth keeping in your life, it’s time for one final talk with each of them. Because these talks take a lot of mental work, feel free to roll them out slowly or as misgendering incidents occur — there’s no need to exhaust yourself with a sort of grand opening of Boundary World. But if you want to keep spending time with these people, these talks do need to happen. I’ve included a little script below with important talking points; feel free to use it as a jumping-off place for what you want to say and how you want to say it. I like to break these scripts up into the conversation, instead of saying or sending it all at once, but having the script helps me keep coming back to my lines in the sand:
“It hurt me when you mentioned your disappointment about my suit/told me I still belong in a ‘female’ category/didn’t adjust the pronoun you use for me. It’s easy for all of us to make assumptions about people because of how they dress, and I realize you may not have seen how important this is to me. But my pronouns are they/them, and my gender is not up for debate. Using the wrong pronouns or calling me by gendered terms like “lady” makes me feel really unseen. I care about our friendship, which is why I’m telling you this again. I hope you’ll be able to adjust so that we can keep hanging out! Thank you for listening.”
And if they’re not able to adjust? It’s not your fault. It’s not because of how you dress or what gender you were assigned at birth. If someone can’t see or respect you when you give them the gift of telling them who you are, that’s on them. And it means they aren’t your people.
But your people are out there. I promise. And something else I know from experience? Having just one friend in your life who truly sees and affirms you — it can be everything. It can be enough. It can help you feel freer to move through the world in the ways that feel right and good and powerful for you.
Once you start looking for people who will truly affirm you, I’ve found that they start to pop out of the woodwork, even in my semi-rural hometown. I’ve found them both inside and outside of specific LGBTQ spaces; what mattered most for me was being able to move on from friends who couldn’t see me, so I’d have the energy and space to nurture friendships where I did feel seen.
Until you do find those people in your day-to-day life, please know: we are out here. I see you, and I bet you see me too. I’m sending you strength to keep wearing exactly what you want to wear, and wishing you the very best of luck. Shine bright, friend. 💙
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Is there ever a time when it’s not necessary to go “no contact” with an ex right after things end? I spent a few years living with my now-recent-ex (also my first queer relationship! I came out concurrently with beginning to date them) and they broke up with me, namely because they felt we were in different places in life and that our avoidant/anxiously-attached dynamic needed too much repair to be viable as a couple, but they have insisted up and down that they can’t imagine me as “not being a part of their life”. We’ve texted and dm’d due to them initiating every day since the breakup, their things are still in our apartment that I’ve stayed with (they moved back in with relatives a month ago even before figuring out that they wanted us to break up), and they’ve expressed anxiety about my hating them forever and that maybe I just want to be left alone to heal. The thing is: I don’t hate them, I’m just heartbroken and confused because they’ve said a few times since ending it that they miss me and are handling things erratically even though I accepted their ask to split up the second they shared it. By their own admission they’re having a quarter life crisis that needs addressing as a single person even though they still love me and maybe see it for us in the future? And by my own admission I still love them but I can see where they aren’t ready and where we couldn’t have continued on as a couple in the same old pattern, and that if they don’t feel up to working on changing it together then splitting up was necessary.
I can’t tell if I want to be left alone either! I’m not even sure if that would help me heal. It sucks waking up most days waiting to see if that day is the day they finally drop off from hitting me up, but things feel a bit one-sided–they’ll share anecdotes with me about their life now, and I’ll respond without trying to get too involved or overly nosy, but I won’t really share about my life because its been upended and I don’t want to feel their pity about causing that or make it their problem? I don’t know what shape a friendship could take but I want it still I think, it’s just hard to tell what’s doable and what might be delusional–I don’t want to have to miss her any more than I already do.
One of my big hang-ups is having come out later in life and feeling like (outside of my exes friends who will now I’m sure remain her friends only!) I don’t have a big queer community of my own…I don’t really *get* the lesbian gfs to exes that are besties pipeline and I wish I did. My ex and I were friends for years prior to getting together and I’d hate to throw that friendship away even if this relationship broke down in such a brutal, slow-motion fashion. I’m still contending with it all–I think she expected the breakup desire to be mutual but I would’ve been open to working on us in a way she didn’t have energy for. I can’t entirely tell if this push towards friendship and communication from her (now that we’re not partners) is about hoping to be absolved from guilt and if so does that water down the potential for not becoming strangers?
My friends are kind of an even split. Some think my ex just doesn’t want to be the bad guy in this but that they’re being inconsiderate and I should cut them off from access to me (with the exception of the logistics for the impending move). Others sympathize a bit more with why I’m conflicted about just shutting them out but even they’re insistent she and I can’t process our breakup together, which is something I definitely agree on.
What do you think?
I’m an adamant believer that exes don’t HAVE to be friends but also don’t HAVE to be enemies. There are so many different shapes relationships with exes can take; don’t let dominant lesbian discourse trick you! There is no “right” way to do a breakup or to renegotiate what a relationship looks like with an ex! I have never become besties with an ex, but I do have people in my life who have something like that, and good for them. But it all boils down to what you want, what your ex wants, how the breakup went down, and how you’re communicating now. I think there are a lot of layers to your situation with your ex, but I also feel rather strongly that trying to force a friendship right now is not the move.
Now, that can look like “no contact” for a period of time where you actually agree upon a time in the future to reevaluate the “no contact” rule. Or it can look like extremely minimal contact, less than what you currently have. For slightly more ambiguous breakups like yours, I’d definitely encourage a boundary that’s firm without being unmovable. “No contact” doesn’t have to be this big scary thing. But it does sound to me just based on your letter that less contact could be the move if you do want to be able to renegotiate a friendship.
It’s significant to me that you’re not the one to reach out to your ex but always wait for them to reach out first. It also feels like it could ultimately be a really painful pattern for you. I know you care a lot about them, but what are you really getting out of these conversations? It honestly doesn’t sound like the most meaningful connection right now and instead just prolongs your feelings of hurt about the breakup.
Again, no contact doesn’t have to be forever! And it also doesn’t have to be AS extreme as it sounds. But right now, the boundaries between you and your ex feel murky, and I think firming them up will help. For the record, it sounds like you actually have pretty good boundaries! I think you’re making the right move by not sharing too much about yourself right now and also not prying into your ex’s life. I have some concerns, meanwhile, that your ex is bringing up their anxiety about you hating them forever. That isn’t fair to you. And even if you were to choose to not be in contact for a bit or significantly reduce contact or establish that you’d actually like it to only happen on your terms instead of your ex being the first to text, that doesn’t mean you hate them! It just means you need time and space, which most breakups require. It does sound like there could be certain power dynamics at play here, since this was also your first queer relationship. Was it your ex’s? It sounds like she maybe has some guilt around ending things with you when it was your first queer relationship, but again, that’s not your burden to bear. She should be giving you space to heal from your first queer breakup, a famously difficult thing to heal from even when things don’t end super badly!
If you’re feeling heartbroken and confused, that’s a good signal to yourself that you need to step back from them in a real way. It is okay for you to miss them and for them to miss you. But it becomes difficult when you both try to process that together while also still being on very different pages (you were willing to work through things that they were not). Your ex should be talking to her own support system about missing you, not you. You can’t hold that space for them, because you’re also heartbroken. I’m not saying this is what your ex is doing, because they’re not the one writing in, but I do know that sometimes people keep exes on a “backburner.” If your ex is saying they’re going through a quarter life crisis, then it’s possible they’re hoping you’ll still be waiting for them on the other side of that, and that, of course, is not fair to you or even to them.
I do think it’s possible to work toward friendship with your ex — just maybe not right now. Maybe not until their stuff is out of your place and there are some clearer boundaries. Maybe not until after there has been just a little bit of “no contact” so you can figure out what your life looks like without their text check-ins. Then, I think it’ll be easier to work them back into your life after you’ve had that intentional time apart. Friendship won’t happen overnight. I think you both have to understand that even if you were friends before you dated, any friendship you pursue now will look different; that’s just how it works. And while you can take time to grieve the friendship of before as well as the relationship, it doesn’t have to be a totally sad thing. I think if you both want it and it feels good, then you can definitely figure out how to be in each other’s lives again in a new and mutually beneficial way. Right now, it just sounds like they need to figure out what it is they want and what’s causing this quarter life crisis, and you need to heal and take space. Again, it doesn’t have to be an ocean of space. It doesn’t have to be forever. But things sound way too entwined right now, and stepping back doesn’t mean you hate your ex or see them as the villain. In fact, it means you’re actually setting yourself up to have a better path forward for friendship. Take the time to miss her and then see how she fits back into your life.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
feature image photo by recep-bg via Getty Images
Hi there. I’ve been with my girlfriend for almost a year now. We are not u-haul lesbians because of where we live and the fact that we’re Asians. We started out great. We used to have very regular sex (at least once a week), and we hung out, went on date nights regularly for the first six months. Now, I know that honeymoon period doesn’t last forever, and I know that very well. It’s just that I feel like I’m not wanted or desired as much anymore. Once a week sex turned into once a month sex, and just earlier this month, we had a short getaway. Sex happened but after two months of not having any, it felt like I wasn’t missed or desired or yearned for. Now she wants more space and time alone, and I’m okay with that. It’s just that I’m starting to feel like I’m just at the mercy of whenever she wants sex, and I’ll just have to wait for that. Whenever I try to ask for more time together, to be more intimate with each other, I’m given indisputable reasons that I can’t be upset or disappointed about like being tired, wanting more time alone, other limitations, etc. Am I’m being unreasonable for feeling like I’m not desired in this situation? Is it right for me to feel this way?
Sex and dating isn’t usually my beat, but I wanted to respond to this because I think the topic of Asian desire doesn’t get nuanced attention often enough. There are a few things that are at play here, in my view, and most of my answers will likely involve more questions for you (and also, possibly, your partner) to consider, than anything else.
First, I think there is a lot of value in being able to express your sexual wants and needs. This may not be your or your partner’s experience as Asians, but for myself and many others, Asian cultures across the board (and especially in really conservative families) can make even the idea of desire so taboo, so cloaked in shame, that it becomes even harder to learn to express our needs in healthy ways. As they say, there’s a kernel of truth in every stereotype, and there’s a reason why Asian women are stereotypically docile and passionless, having sex done to us rather than being active agents of our own pleasure. So, I think it’s important that there’s space in your relationship — and any relationship, really — to be able to express your sexual wants and needs in a healthy, non-coercive, non-toxic way with your partner, even when those wants and needs don’t match.
I’ve said it twice, and I’ll say it again a third time just to be really clear: the key here is healthy communication on the part of all involved.
And to that end, I want to share a reel from consent educator Sarah Casper that friend and fellow writer mat shared with me when we were recently talking about desire. What I love about this is that Casper goes beyond saying, “Your wants are not anyone else’s responsibilities to fulfill” — which, of course, is a must — and also emphasizes the point that the people we are with need to be able to hold space for us to express our wants. I really think that both of those are critical to having healthy communication around consent, intimacy, and sex.
In my first relationship, I was with a person who had a lot of boundaries around physical intimacy, and so, like you, I often felt at the mercy of her desires. My self-imposed response to this was to not voice my own sexual wants and go along with whatever she wanted to do. At the time, I said it was because I was respecting her space and boundaries, but after the fact I realized that it was also rooted in my own deep fear of rejection. And later still, I realized that the impulse to silence my own desires ended up recreating the sexual suppression of the culture I was raised in.
So, what does it look like to be able to express your desires in a way that is just about stating them without any expectation of change or action? Honestly, I’m not entirely sure, but I do think that there’s room for work here on both your part and your partner’s. It’s hard, and in some ways, I feel like I can relate to your situation but also may be just projecting my own experiences onto them, so take what I say with a grain of salt, of course.
In my case, part of the issue was my own work around getting comfortable with my own desires. It seems like that may not be the case for you, but I would ask you to consider what “feeling desired” means to you? Is it just about having sex with a certain amount of frequency? Are there other things that are either present in your relationship or, possibly, missing from your relationship that leave you feeling undesired or, even, undesirable? Can you verbalize them clearly as your own wants?
Because the thing is, I’m not sure this is entirely about how often you and your partner have sex, and I think focusing on that may be a bit of a red herring. Sexual needs are real, of course, and I think it’s valid to want to have your sexual needs fulfilled, but that’s separate from feeling desired and, when it comes to sex specifically, as you know, your partner isn’t responsible for that, either. But, there are a couple of other ways you can have your sexual needs met: masturbating or possibly opening up your relationship, if that’s something that would work for you and your partner.
But I really would encourage you to think about what different types of intimacy (besides sex) would make you feel hot and wanted, and whether those exist in your relationship? Do you feel like you can have a conversation with your partner about them? Again, not from a lens of changing anything, necessarily, but as a simple statement of wants. Approached this way, this line of exploration may open up valuable conversations about other ways in which you can feel desired in your relationship. It might also lead you to really take time to reflect on the things that are special and fulfilling in your relationship that you maybe aren’t valuing right now because (based on the letter you shared, at least) you seem to be primarily focused on sex, specifically.
The other side of this is your partner’s ability to engage in this conversation without feeling the need to problem solve or explain why they can’t meet your wants. This has to start with you in the conversation — frame things in a non-coercive way by, for example, stating clearly, “I’m not asking you to change anything, but I need to feel like I can express my wants and desires and that they can be heard as such, and not taken as any expectation from you.” If you feel like your partner may not be able to hear your wants in this way, then it might be helpful to start by sharing that Instagram reel and engaging in a conversation about it. What resonates? What feels right? What feels wrong? How can you apply this lens to the way you approach communicating about intimacy, desire, and sex in your relationship? Do you both even want to?
The final thing I want to say, is that after having these conversations, you and your partner may find yourselves at an impasse. Maybe you’ll find that your wants are misaligned, and there isn’t really a path forward. Sometimes, the history of the conversations that have already happened — especially if there were any serious breakdowns in communication along the way — make it hard to approach intimacy and sex from this framework of stating wants without needing to act on them. And so maybe, your best and kindest option for each other is to break up.
Part of being able to name and also sit with your own wants is recognizing when you need to take action and take responsibility for fulling those wants yourself. If you’re not getting what you want out of a relationship, and that’s becoming a deal breaker for you, then you can also say the relationship is no longer working for you, end it as kindly as you can, and instead look for one where you feel more desired and have your sexual needs met. That’s also completely valid.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
feature image photo by Johnce via Getty Images
My sister and I have been through a lot together. We grew up in a hardcore evangelical church with an abusive dad and a mom that enabled him. My sister and I have leaned on each other through leaving the church, starting therapy, cutting off our parents, her getting divorced, and me coming out.
Our parents did the scapegoat-and-golden-child thing. She’s a classic type-A person: ED nurse, highly controlled, makes decisions quickly, and never changes her mind. I’m the family fuckup: I’ve had lifelong mental health issues; I’m a wishy-washy artist; I have a non-traditional career. I’m also very queer, and that’s a problem.
My sister didn’t fully leave the church. She left the church we grew up in, but she’s still an evangelical Christian, and she still carries a lot of beliefs that are harmful to me. She’s always “supported” me, and yet she believes being gay is a sin. It’s mostly OK — she doesn’t go out of her way to make negative comments, she’s even gone on double dates with me. Classic “love the sinner, hate the sin” situation. But it hurts. It feels like her love is conditional. It feels like she’s secretly judging me, even if she isn’t saying horrible things to my face. It feels like she’s waiting for me to realize the error of my ways. It feels like any pain I go through is “proof” that my lifestyle is wrong, being queer is the source of all my problems, or etc etc etc.
It’s been like this for years. Every so often we fought about it, and then it’d end with, “Whatever, I’m tired of fighting, I love you”, and we just wouldn’t talk about it anymore. I love her. We know each other better than anyone else on earth, she’s the only family I’ve got, and I want her in my life. I’ve been willing to put this aside and accept the love she’s willing to give me. But it’s all come to a head now that my health insurance finally approved my top surgery.
Being gay was one thing, being trans is another. She “supports” trans people, but she is completely against this. First, she just had a lot of medical concerns; now, she’s trying to convince me that I’m not mentally stable enough to make a life-changing surgical decision. I disagree, my therapist disagrees, the countless doctors who’ve approved my paperwork disagree. But because of the scapegoat-and-golden-child thing, I’m the fuckup, she doesn’t trust my choices, and I’ll never convince her.
It all comes back to religion. My sister says I’m being judgmental of HER for not accepting her non-acceptance of me. She’s incredibly hurt by how much I dislike the church (and doesn’t seem to care how badly the church has hurt me). She’s comfortable being in my life, talking about my dating life, possibly helping me out post-surgery, and disapproving of me the whole time. She thinks it’s crazy that I’m hurt by that.
Am I crazy for “not accepting her non-acceptance”? Is that a fair ask from her? I don’t know where to go from here. How do I keep someone in my life when our great loves are so opposed? Is it worth building up an extensive list of things (critical, beloved things — queerness for me, the church for her) we can’t talk about, to keep the peace between us?
The general consensus from my therapist and friends is to give up and look for support elsewhere, but god, trying to fill the void of this relationship is unimaginable. Although I’m trying to make more connections, I don’t have a ton of close relationships. She’s been my anchor for many years. How do I love this person in a way that doesn’t hurt me anymore? Is it even worth trying?
Thanks, Straddlers. Love you guys.
I’ve thought about your question so many times since you asked it, and every time I come back to feeling a really deep grief and pain for you. I’m sorry. I really am so, so sorry.
Our backgrounds and experiences are very different, but your bond with your sister resonates really strongly with me. I, too, grew up in an extremely conservative family, and my sisters and I have leaned on each other our whole lives: first, to escape the grasp of that family and its religious institutions and second, to make our way into the world, trying to make sense of who we are and what we want after a childhood of repression. There’s a depth of connection we share that most people simply can’t understand. These relationships are intrinsic parts of who we all are, and I get the feeling (based on what you shared) that this is true for you and your sister as well.
And so, to read that your sister has taken a “love the sinner, hate the sin” approach to you is heartbreaking beyond words to me. I really am so, so sorry.
It’s so painful and so complicated. At the end of the day, the best advice I can give you comes down to two things. First and foremost, take all the time you need — years, most likely — to name and hold and feel and process the grief of this situation, regardless of what you decide for your relationship with her. And second, know that any decision you make around this is not permanent. You are allowed to make a decision today and change it tomorrow or in a month or a year or a decade.
Whether you choose to keep her in your life or not, accepting that despite everything you have been through together, the fact that she so vehemently rejects who you are as a person is a profound loss of the kind I think most people simply cannot understand. In some ways, I think, it’s easy for people outside of these situations to say things like, “She doesn’t really love you, she’s hurting you so much, so why are you keeping her in your life?” And those things are all true, but, at least based on what I’ve observed in my own experience, there are so many ways in which she has shown you real love and support in the context of a family and community that is so bereft of it. That’s a hard thing to let go of. You share a history and a bond that truly is irreplaceable.
That said, it also sounds like your sister has internalized and adopted some of the manipulative behaviors and conditional approaches to love that you were both raised in. When I read how your sister views you as “judgmental” for not being ok with her rejecting you in the fullness of who you are, including your queer and trans identities — I don’t know, there’s something in there that feels related to gaslighting to me. She’s hurting you deeply and at the same time turning the situation around on you as being the one who “can’t accept.” What you described feels reminiscent of the toxic dynamic in abusive relationships where the abuser blames the person they are abusing for being abused. Pointing this out to her is probably not going to be helpful, but I just want to affirm to you that you really are not at all crazy or judgmental for not accepting her non-acceptance of you.
This might not be a useful answer to you, but at the end of the day, I think only you can really decide what is best for you in terms of a continued relationship with her, and your answer to that may change over time. You may find that you need to take space from your relationship so you can reassess the conditions of her love and whether or how you want that to be part of your life. You may find that you can no longer make allowances in your life for her bigotry. You may also find that you simply can’t let her go, which in many ways is the much harder road to take. In the case of my own relationship with my parents, I can’t say I’ve really figured this out, but in the 12 years since I became independent, I only recently really realized what it meant to really accept their love as conditional and have no expectations of them at all. And I only arrived at this point after years of really facing the extent of their own manipulations, self-serving neglect, and abuse and being able to name those things as such. I imagine that if you choose to keep your sister in your life, you’ll need to come to terms with something similar for yourself and your relationship with her, as well.
I do think, though, that continuing the work you’re doing to expand your network will be really invaluable to you, regardless of whether you keep your sister as part of your life or not. Part of what makes your connection so strong is the shared bond over what you’ve been through together. And while no one outside of her can really know the specific dynamics of your family history, there are many people who share comparable experiences.
In a recent A+ Advicebox, Meg shared a number of helpful reading resources that I want to pass along: an essay by Christina Tesoro on healing from purity culture and two booklists on purity culture and evangelism. You may find these works incredibly resonant, but I also would encourage you to seek out community from them: perhaps consider following some of these writers on social media to see if there are events, forums, or other community-centered activities that they host or promote that could help you meet others who share your experiences. It will likely take time, but this slow process might help you find others that you can connect with so that you’re not relying so closely on just your sister as your connection to and means of processing your past. It’ll also, hopefully, help you feel less alone in your experiences.
Additionally, I asked a friend about resources for folks getting top surgery, and he highly recommended the Top Surgery Support Facebook Group. My friend found this community invaluable for not only navigating the process but also having additional support, connections, and affirmations every step of the way. Joining a group like this, if you’re not already part of one, might fill some of the gaps of genuine, loving support and affirmation of your surgery that you know you won’t get from your sister, even if she provides the physical support of picking you up and helping you out after the procedure.
Ultimately, whether you keep your sister in your life or you seek out support elsewhere as your therapist and friends are encouraging you to do, I think you’ll have to do the deeply painful work of accepting that there will always be a void in your life around her. It’s a deep connection, which makes her betrayal of you and the loss you’re feeling around the relationship more acute and feel even more insurmountable. But as with all things, given time and space and through forging new connections, new relationships, I really believe that the gap will feel less all-encompassing.
Wishing you all the best with your top surgery! This is an exciting moment in your life, and I hope that in spite of everything going on with your sister, you’re able to find real joy in this act of self-affirmation.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
How can I make long distance more bearable? I physically ache whenever we have to part ways and it makes me so sad.
Oh, friend, I can relate so much! Every long-term relationship I’ve ever been in started long distance or had a long period of long distance at some point, including my current relationship with my fiancé, which was long distance for the first year-ish. When I first started dating Kristen, she lived in Orlando, and I lived in New York. We were lucky in how often we go to see each other, because I had a flexible work-from-home schedule and she was traveling a lot for her first book tour, but still when we parted, I could sometimes become physically ill the way you’re describing! I distinctly remember one time in New York when it was our last day together. I took her to a pizza place I love and knew she would enjoy. But I could barely eat anything, because my stomach was in knots. Then, I started feeling doubly worse: I was frustrated by my inability to enjoy this moment with her and the way I was fixating on our impending separation. All I wanted was to eat really good pizza with my love, but all I could think about was how soon she’d be getting on a plane to return to the place she called home, a place that, at the time, I didn’t belong to.
I wish I could go back in time and tell myself the thing I’m now going to tell you: Yes, there are things you can do to help mitigate the tumultuous nature of long distance and the pain you feel when you have to be apart, but you also do have to accept that discomfort as part of your relationship. There isn’t some magic cure-all solution; long distance is hard! It’s going to be hard. But I wish I had just eaten that pizza while sad and allowed myself space for that sadness without it spiraling into some larger feeling of frustration at myself and extreme anxiety. Goodbyes are always going to be sad. You can’t let that sadness stop you from living your life — both with your partner in these goodbye moments but also once your partner is gone.
Here are the things I find help: Trying as much as possible to know when the next time you’re going to see each other is before you part ways. This isn’t always possible, depending on finances, work schedules, life in general. But the times when I knew as we were saying goodbye when we would be reunited were always a bit easier! Because then there’s this really clear expectation of “we’ll see each other in three weeks!” vs. some nebulous blob of time apart. I also find that the ways you spend your time when you are together can deeply inform how you feel when you’re apart. I find there’s a tendency in LDRs to spend your time together in one of two ways: either one-on-one and holed up having sex the whole time or trying to do one million social activities out and about together so you can maximize time with your partner and friends, which is something we don’t always get to do in LDRs. I think it’s best to try to find a balance between the two during your time together. Don’t overload your schedule with activities and outings; allow plenty of time for true rest, spontaneity, and intimate time together. But also, do spend time in groups and with friends together instead of only one-on-one time. Find a balance between scheduling things and leaving things more open; my favorite moments when Kristen and I were long distance were the ones that felt unexpected and adventurous, like we were exploring a place together.
I also know there’s a tendency to ignore conflict in LDRs when you’re together, because you’re trying to make sure that time together is “perfect.” But if you ignore conflicts when they come up, then you run the risk of letting those feelings grow and then burst to the surface unproductively when you’re apart and it’s more difficult to communicate. You also run the risk of overly romanticizing your relationship, which also heightens those feelings of separation when you have to say goodbye. People in LDRs should deal with conflict as it comes up the same way people in non-distance relationships do, even if it means cutting into your precious time together.
When you’re apart, see friends. Don’t isolate. Have built-in, scheduled time to catch up with each other and expectations and boundaries around that. Part of what primed me for dating long-distance was that I’ve always had very close long-distance friendships (due to being a Tumblr Gay for the first two-thirds of my life). So I’m very used to texting a LOT and still do these days because all of my best friends are long distance again. In an LDR, it can feel like your phone is a direct extension of your heart. Some people might give you a hard time for being on your phone too much (my mother always did when she was with me during my period of long distance with Kristen). Here’s the thing: Those people are kinda right, but they’re not saying it the right way, and they’re not telling you the things you actually do need to hear. It’s okay to be attached to your phone when you’re long distance. But you also don’t need to be “on call” in your relationship at all times. If you have those designated times to catch up and connect with each other, in the hours leading up to and immediately after those times, take a break from your phone if you can. Your heart is always gonna be in two places, but you still have to learn how to be a present as possible and show up for yourself and others when your partner isn’t around. I think people assume co-dependency relies on physical closeness, but co-dependency can super easily form in a long-distance relationship, especially if you’re too removed from your own life when you’re apart. In a regular relationship, people take “breaks” from each other to do their own things, socialize with separate friends, etc. Paradoxically, it sometimes feels like you’re never taking time to yourself in a long-distance relationship, because your longing is always there, and because you don’t want to be by yourself; you want your love with you.
Don’t be hard on yourself for being on your phone a lot but also take breaks, remind yourself that meaningful connection doesn’t have to mean constant connection. Plan long-distance FaceTime dates with each other and then when those are over, spend genuine time “apart” by doing something like meeting up with friends or watching a movie on your own and not really being on your phone. I do find that being more intentional about the ways you spend your time together and the ways you spend your time apart can really help with the feelings of sadness during goodbyes. But also just know you’re probably going to be some level of sad no matter what. And that’s okay. Eat the pizza, be sad, but be present.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hi, I’ve been dating this girl for 9 months. I was head over heels for her since the minute I met her. Then I became a caregiver for my grandmother and became very burnt out — but still used every last ounce of my energy to spend with her. She told me at the 3 month mark that she loved me. (I’m 44 and have been through 2 long term relationships with people that I also thought I loved and saw them fall to a complacent bland and then dramatic existence and I am not quick to say these words. Not even with family. I clam up. I’ve always been very shy about these things. My good friends never knew who I was interested in until I was deeply involved.) So I clammed up and that started what became the 6 months of insecurity hell.
I would literally be trying to get all my work done faster so I could spend time with her but then when I’d see her she was upset that I didn’t text her all night. Or sometimes my grandmother would decide she wanted to stay up late in the living room watching movies until midnight, which would prevent me from being able to come out. I also started knitting my girlfriend socks while I was trapped watching movies — another thing that prevented me from power texting. So then when I saw her again she was worked up that I was avoiding her where I’ve actually been so excited to give her the socks I’ve been making her. She loves blue and rainbows and black so I make socks with this and was really excited to give it to her.
Then I became more burnt out and when we’d hang out I would pass out. Or I really started not getting any time alone and when I’d mention that I’d need some down time, she would end up really upset that I don’t want to spend time with her or anything. And she would start telling me I’m using her etc. I really care a lot about her but she has started getting advice from the internet and friends that I’m bread-crumbing her and lying to her when I’m not with her. It makes me panic and sometimes angry because I’ve done so much for her with time I really didn’t have for myself. I bought her dog training classes, i bought her leather things she likes, I went on dog walks with her if my grandmother was napping, I brought her xc skiing with me, I paid for her to come to the climbing gym with me, I slept at her house many nights that I should have actually been watching my grandmother (she wants someone there during the night while she sleeps, but I would sneak out). I rented AirBNBs and got a grandmother sitter so we could go away on weekends to have time alone together. I text a lot, I really have strong feelings for her too. But she words things in ways that I can’t win and she is making me want more space when I know that’s not what she actually wants. But her language becomes kind of abusive in an indirect way and I don’t know what to do.
All the advice online seems to really push the u-haul advice, and so according to stuff she reads online confirms I’m moving too slow, bread-crumbing her or stringing her along.
I already really loved her but she’s not feeling it from me and I don’t know how to make her feel more loved when it feels like she is cornering me and demanding I love her more.
I’ve read about anxious and insecure attachment styles and I’ve also noticed this comes up once a month…
She’s now just decided yesterday we can only be friends because she’s convinced I’m uninterested.
How do I bridge the gap between how I feel for her and how she feels?
Oh, friend. First of all, I want to acknowledge the huge amount of labor that you’re currently doing for your grandmother — both physically and emotionally. I know both first-hand and from my day job that caregiving for our older loved ones can be really rewarding, but it can also be really draining, especially when you don’t have sufficient opportunities for respite. Having to stay in and stay up late to watch movies with your grandmother when that’s not a choice you would make for yourself, sneaking out… it feels to me like you’re describing a situation that is not going to be sustainable long-term. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.
This isn’t exactly what you wrote in to ask us about, but I’m curious whether there are other family members who could help to share the load of this caregiving with you. If family members aren’t an option, there may be some other opportunities to get some respite and put a little bit more balance into your life. If you live in the US, you can start by googling your location plus “area agency on aging.” Area Agencies on Aging are state-licensed nonprofits that help to coordinate community resources for older adults and their families, and may be able to connect you with other low- or no-cost services, like Adult Day Health Care, home health aides, etc. Reaching out for help can sometimes feel impossible when your energy reserves are already sapped by the work you’re doing, but hopefully, if you are able to get some services in place, you may be able to start to bring some balance back into your life, and have the space and time for dating and for all of the other intricacies of a full life.
Which brings us to your relationship! I’m going to say this bluntly: I don’t think this is the right person for you. When I first began to read your letter, I thought there might simply be a communication disconnect, but when you really get down to the nitty-gritty, it honestly sounds like she’s looking for something you just can’t give her. The fact that you can’t isn’t a moral failing on your part; wanting or needing different things from a relationship is a value-neutral issue. She wants someone effusive with their language and lavish with their time, someone who can upend a lot of their life to be with her. Meanwhile, your life is very full at the moment. It’s not too full for the right kind of relationship, but it is too full for THIS relationship. This mismatch is not something you can make up for by buying her other things, like dog training lessons and passes to the climbing gym. Trying to do so is only going to drain your mental reserves even more.
You mentioned “all the advice online,” but I think that we can take her at her word when she says what she wants. It’s very possible that you two are simply in two different seasons when it comes to dating and sharing a life. I do remember a time, in my twenties and early thirties, when my life had a lot of space in it; when embracing a new relationship could happen at an accelerated pace, and I could spend a ton of time with this new person in my life. Now, at 39, I’m in a place where my life is much fuller, with obligations and with joys. There is space in my life, but dating looks different than it did when I was younger. And that’s okay! When you find someone who understands and can relate to the season you’re in, things will progress more naturally and feel more balanced.
At the end of your letter, you mentioned that the person you’re writing in about may have basically broken up with you when she said “you could only be friends.” I hope that in the time between then and now, you’ve been able to talk together and clarify your status. If you haven’t, it’s time to do that now. Whatever has happened and will continue to happen with that relationship and/or friendship, I hope that you’re able to take some steps to get some support in your caregiving, and that you can start to seek the type of relationship that you deserve — one with a person who respects the fullness of your life, and who can provide a little bit of support, joy, and glimmers of goodness, just as you do the same for them. I’ll be thinking of you. Good luck out there! 💙
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Dear Autostraddle Advice Writers,
I’m finally getting serious about dating women—that is, ceasing to date men and seriously putting myself out there in the dating pool, primarily online. So far, so good.
But… I was wondering about wanting kids. I recently got some clarity that, while I do hypothetically want a child in the future, I also don’t want one if it means sacrificing the things that are most important to me: creative work, supporting my mom and found-family sibling, and building my career. For that reason, I’ve been open to dating people with all attitudes toward children on their bios (want, don’t want, unsure, etc.)
But my friends are warning me that I might be setting myself up for failure by dating women who don’t want kids. Should I be avoiding people just because they don’t want children, even though they might otherwise be perfect for me? And what about people who DO high-key want kids: are they going to think kids should be our top priority the way my male exes did?
I know it’s not a zero-sum game, because I watched my single mom work full-time and get a bachelor’s, a master’s and a post-grad education while being a great parent. But my experiences also tell me that it CAN be a zero-sum game if your partner sees it that way.
What do you all think? Should I even be dating people who don’t want kids? Are there risks with people who do? I know what I want to receive from and give to a romantic relationship in every other regard, but I’m struggling with this.
[Editor’s Note: The Letter Writer then submitted the following addendum]
Hey I’m just writing in to clarify an ask I submitted a couple of days ago about what kinds of “kids” preferences I should look at while dating.
I just wanted to clarify that I do know raising kids is a HUGE commitment and I didn’t mean to imply that. Just that I think it’s been even tougher on the ambitious parents I know (divorced or not) with unsupportive partners than the ambitious single parents I know with a supportive network.
Hi! I honestly have follow-up questions for your friends about why they think you’re setting yourself up for failure here, because I struggle to see their point of view. I think because you are not totally sure about whether you want kids or not, then being open to dating people with a range of opinions on children actually makes sense! I suppose I can see why some of your friends think “unsure” people should strictly date “unsure” people, but also — no I can’t!
First, I want to validate your uncertainty. A lot of what you wrote really resonates with me. I’ve changed my mind about kids throughout life. I adamantly didn’t want them…when I was closeted. For my closeted brain at the time, I associated marriage and kids with heteronormativity and was scared of living a heterosexual life as I was not, in fact, heterosexual. When I came out, all that changed, and I was able to imagine a queer future for myself that involved kids and marriage. I shifted more into a place of absolutely wanting kids and probably would have put that preference on a dating app at the time. Then, I moved into a place more like what you’re saying. My career and my writing ambitions became the top things I wanted to focus on, and my view on kids became something more like “probably, but not right now.” Some people know firmly exactly what they want in terms of kids and always have; I’ve found that the vast majority of my friends (who are mostly queer) have ebbed and flowed like me on the topic. Starting a family as a queer person often involves more steps (and more money!) than it does for straight people, and I think that’s one of the reasons attitudes about it are more malleable.
I think especially because you recently made some new intentions in the way you’re approaching dating (focusing on dating women and seriously putting yourself out there), then it makes sense to online date a wide range of people, including people who have a wide range of opinions on kids. While I do think people should in general talk about things like kids and marriage early-ish in a relationship, particularly before moving in, I also think it’s okay to casually date folks who might not share your exact views on the future. For starters, I do think it’s important to remember that dating people can look like a lot of different things and doesn’t need to necessarily lead to a long-term or forever partnership in order to positively impact your life. Even brief relationships can be meaningful. I think only you can know your own timeline and your own hard lines to draw, so if you start seeing someone for a few weeks, a few months, half a year, and you have a conversation about kids and seem like you might be misaligned, then that’s the point to reconsider things. And that doesn’t mean the relationship has failed! It doesn’t mean you’ve wasted your time! It just means you were compatible until you weren’t.
As for differences between women you might date and your male exes, it’s hard to say, because it’s indeed true that conversations around parenting and pregnancy and raising children do often look different outside of heteronormative expectations and structures. But it’s also true that there are plenty of queer women for whom kids are an urgent priority. It’s going to vary person-to-person. You just have to talk about it with folks when the time arises. I don’t think a box on a dating app can accurately capture a person’s views on parenthood, you know? That’s something that you get to know the more you get to know a person, not really something you can screen for ahead of time.
It’s very possible you might start dating someone who impacts your view on kids, and so long as that isn’t a pressuring type of impact but just a passive impact, I think that’s great! I realized I wanted kids again when I started dating my current partner, because I realized I specifically wanted a kid with her. Maybe if I’d been with someone else, I would have made a different choice. The first time we talked about it, we basically both said the same thing, which was that we were both open to the idea of it, that it wasn’t a hard no, but that it wasn’t something that was definitely going to happen either — and especially wouldn’t be happening soon. If either of us changed our mind, we’d cross that bridge when it comes. I feel aligned with her when it comes to our values about the hypotheticals of parenting.
These things are hard, and you’re not wrong for thinking about it a lot. But I do think it depends on so many different things and that all people change their minds — you could, the person you’re dating could, etc. Remain open to the idea of uncertainty as well as growth. So long as no one is pressuring anyone to change their minds, that’s all that matters.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I’m in my most volatile long term relationship to date. Things are frequently and currently great, but she is a troubled creature who isn’t willing to look inwards. This has led to some horrible situations, and surely will again. For my own sake, I always keep one eye on the door, but I’m in uncharted territory here. My inquiry in case it becomes necessary to break up: I would like advice/stories about how to disentangle oneself logistically from a long term relationship that ends badly (which it absolutely would, if it goes there). We don’t live together, but I keep a lot of my stuff at her house and we have a ton of plans months in advance. How have other people navigated bad breakups with logistical hurdles?
This is one of those instances where I think there’s a lot of blanket advice out there and it’s important to understand that your situation is uniquely yours and there are a lot of nuances to consider. Sometimes people respond to questions about fractured or toxic relationships with the blanket advice: BREAK UP. Even though you’re couching some of the language by saying things like “if it goes there,” it does sound to me like you’ve already reached the conclusion that you should break up but just naturally have some doubts and reservations. If you’re indeed having doubts, I would definitely nudge you in that direction based on the minimal but telling details you’ve provided. If you’re thinking this hard about breaking up and mentally planning for the fallout, I think you should break up.
But the question isn’t really should I break up? but rather how can I break up? And that’s where things get tricky!
“Planned breakups” aren’t always a good thing. Sometimes they’re a result of someone just being too scared to break up even when they know it’s what they want to do. It’s unfair to the other person to be harboring these feelings instead of just communicating and ending the relationship and can often lead to resentment, cheating, etc. To me though, that’s not what’s happening here. Some breakups do have to have some advanced planning because they involve tricky logistics or toxic or abusive situations where leaving isn’t as easy as just having a conversation and walking out the door. Again, there aren’t a ton of details in your letter, but I’ll take you at your word when you say the relationship is volatile and there have been “horrible situations” with this other person (though I do want to push back on the words “troubled creature” a bit just because it sort of takes away her humanity a bit, and I think moving through this breakup with empathy will be important for your overall sense of well being! I promise I have YOU in mind with this gentle pushback). Since I don’t have all the details as to your relationship and any harm that has been done, I am going to give advice that kind of assumes near-worst case scenarios, so feel free to take or leave aspects of this!
Don’t worry too much about the plans you have months from now. If they’re things like trips or vacations, it’s possible after the breakup that you’ll be able to get refunds or travel credits, take the trips with someone else, or possibly lose some money that has already been spent. It sounds like your financial and living situations are not tied together, so that’s at least two major things you don’t have to worry about as much. Have you spoken at all with a therapist? Therapists can be really helpful in constructing a plan to breakup and helping you figure out what to say and do. If therapy is not accessible to you, have you opened up to any friends about this? I would of course stick to friends who primarily or exclusively have a relationship with you and not your girlfriend, which I know can be hard in a long term relationship, but hopefully you have folks who are squarely in your corner.
In fact, I would make a plan to stay with one of those friends in the immediate aftermath of the breakup, if you can. Again, it helps that you don’t live together, but if situations tend to get volatile, it might be best if you have somewhere to stay for a bit that she doesn’t have access to. Protect yourself digitally too; if you have each other’s locations, make sure to turn that off and change any passwords she might have access to. Gradually move some of the items that are at her house that are most important to you back to your place, but you might also have to accept that you will have to lose some things in the breakup. Try to get the things you value most out of there.
Maybe this is just because I’m a writer, but I find it helpful to journal through the process of a breakup. It’ll keep you grounded, remind you you’re doing the right thing, and be like a record of what you actually feel in case your ex attempts to gaslight or emotionally manipulate you down the road.
I know you said you’d also like to hear stories, so I’ll leave you with some personal anecdotes about how my last breakup unfolded on a logistics level as well as things I wish I’d done differently. We lived together for about four years, and toward the end of that, we were no longer together, so the first mistake I made was not immediately moving out after the breakup. I ended up losing some money to the breakup, too, as there were pieces of my furniture I couldn’t logistically move on the timeframe my ex wanted me to, so I had to pay to have them disposed of. I also lost a cat in this breakup because I foolishly made assumptions instead of getting any arrangements in writing pertaining to who would get the cat, and the cat was then used against me for emotional manipulation (at least from my perspective) and I ended up having to just make the choice to let her take the cat instead of trying to fight. To be honest, by then, I was tired of fighting. I was ready to move on, even if she wasn’t. At a certain point, you do have to realize that the breakup is a huge loss, and sometimes that doesn’t even just mean losing a person but other parts of your life, too. There isn’t really an easy or clean-cut way to disentangle two lives after a long term relationship, especially when it ends badly (as mine did as well). I’ve almost never heard of a breakup that didn’t come with some sort of literal financial cost in addition to all the emotional costs. Do everything you can to protect yourself and keep the things you care about but also know you might have to give some things up.
Ask! For! Help! Breakups can be so isolating, but it is important to surround yourself with people who are going to support you in this decision and be there for you. Ending a long term relationship often means losing the person you relied on the most (even in bad relationships), so make sure you’re leaning on other people instead of falling back into old patterns.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hi humans!!
Got a quick question!
I have a friend who’s in her mid thirties (ten years older than me,) and is the best human.
We’ve both chatted to each other over the years a bunch about our various love lives, which haven’t worked out for a bunch of reasons, and she’s the most switched on, hilarious, supportive friend you could ask for.
At various times I’ve entertained asking her out. I don’t think it would affect our friendship, either it’s a yes (and obv that changes things,) or it’s a kind no and we laugh about it later and carry on.
The thing is… I’m fairly sure she’s not into me. First up is the age difference. I met her when I was 22 and she was 32, which are wildly different life stages. So I was kind of like her gay little sister.
I’m also pretty sure I’m not her type. I’m chubby and adorable and fairly androgynous, and she’s historically been into hot, slender, masculine women.
One time I did make a joke about bringing her flowers which she laughed off and said how sweet I was, so I’m 99.99% certain she’ll only ever see me as a friend.
Which is totally and completely fine, I love her to bits!
The reason I’m asking is I’m reading Michelle Elman’s ‘Selfish Dating’ book and she talks about how we can never really know unless we ask. And I feel like this is low enough risk that I may as well ask? There have also been a few moments where I’ve been like hm. Maybe I’m not one-sided about this.
What are your thoughts? I suspect you’re going to tell me respectfully to let it die 😉 which is probably the plan, as like I said, I love being her friend! It’s just that once in a blue moon I also wonder what it could be like to be more, as we’re super compatible and it’s just kind of great.
xoxoxox
Hi friend!
My very short answer to your question is: do the thing!!
Okay, here’s the long version. I love that reading a book (The Selfish Romantic) has prompted you to look at your life a bit differently. I suspect this is the kind of thing the author was hoping for when she wrote it! I haven’t read The Selfish Romantic, but I totally agree with the idea that “we can never really know until we ask.” In your letter, you go back and forth a bit, saying you’re 99% sure your friend isn’t interested, but then tell us there have been a few moments between the two of you that have made you wonder.
Let’s go through the reasons you gave that you think your friend wouldn’t be interested in dating you. One: your age difference. I agree that if you two were at really different life stages because of your age gap — ie, when you first met and became friends — that would indeed be an important thing to consider. But at this point, it sounds like you’ve moved on from your baby gaydom and you and your friend are more or less in similar places in your life. Especially considering how small the queer dating pool is, it’s not weird at all to date someone ten years older or younger than you. It’s pretty common! Maybe because of when you met, your friend thinks of you as a gay little sister, as you said, and not a potential dating partner. More on that below.
Reason two: type. I don’t want to completely dismiss the idea of people having a type; I for one have historically been into masculine presenting people of all genders, which definitely qualifies for a type. But I also think human sexuality is more complex than people generally believe, and that it is more malleable than people think. I prefer to think of physical types as a loose guideline, rather than a hard and fast rule. It’s also crucial to remember that human attraction and desire are not exempt from the nasty influence of stuff like racism, fatphobia, misogyny, etc. Someone may have tended towards certain types not because they’re only attracted to those people, but because societal norms tell us certain bodies are the most attractive.
Plus, almost every queer person I know (myself included!) has been thrown by attraction to someone unexpected. Just because your friend hasn’t dated someone physically like you (that you know of!) doesn’t mean she might not consider dating you. This is especially true since she knows and loves you as a whole person and isn’t just checking out your physical appearance from across a gay bar.
Reason three, and this is the backbone of your question: what about your friendship? I think this would be a very different scenario if you hadn’t been so clear and confident that your friendship with this person will remain intact and well, even if she doesn’t reciprocate your feelings or feel open to exploring. You write that if she says no, it would be “a kind no and we laugh about it later and carry on.” I can’t think of a more ideal no than that. On this front, I agree with you that asking her if there’s a possibility of dating is relatively low risk. (Side note: I’m also basing this advice on the assumption that both of you are single!)
So if we’ve established that a “kind no” is a potential outcome that you’re comfortable with and that you feel certain that would be how your friend would turn you down, I have some other questions for you: What about if it’s a yes? Or, here’s a possibility you didn’t list: a maybe?
Maybe she really hasn’t thought of you that way, and is still thinking of you a bit like her lil gay sis. She quite possibly will not respond to you asking her out with a declaration about the secret crush she’s been nursing on you or even an enthusiastic yes to going on a date. But, you asking her out might prompt her to reconsider how she’s been seeing you. Maybe she’ll say she wants a bit of time to think about it. Maybe she’ll say she’s not sure, but she’s open to exploring the idea a bit. How do you feel about potentially receiving this kind of response? Does it feel as okay as the “kind no”?
And to take the hypothetical a bit further: what happens if you two try going on a few dates, make out a bit, or even sleep together a time or two, and then your friend calls it off? What if the two of you have a full on relationship, but it doesn’t work out? I think it’s worth thinking those scenarios through, and feeling good that no matter what, you and your friend will treat each other with kindness and respect, even if there are hurt feelings, even if it turns into a situation where one of you — probably you, to be honest — becomes more emotionally invested in a romantic relationship between the two of you. Of course, only you can answer these questions for yourself right now. And if you two dip your toes into dating, these are questions you can discuss explicitly with each other, but where you’ll still have to ultimately make the call about what is right for you.
Good luck my friend and please keep us posted, whichever way it goes!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
My fiancée and I are putting together the guest list for our wedding and we’ve run into a social quandary. It will be a small wedding, and we want to invite two of our mutual friends who are married to each other. We mostly knew them as a monogamous couple, but since we moved to another state, they have become part of a polycule. We love our friends, and want everyone at this intimate gathering to feel comfortable. We’ve never met the two newest people in their relationship, but they all seem to be getting more serious about each other. Should we invite just the two friends, or the whole polycule? How do we know when a +1 should actually be a +2 or +3?
Hello! Fellow queer person currently planning a wedding here and experiencing intermittent guest list stress, so I am answering from that perspective! The simplified version of my answer is this: Basically, you can treat these friends the same way as you treat other friends who have maybe started new relationships where you don’t know their partners. Are you automatically inviting all of your monogamously partnered friends’ partners even if you’ve never met them before or don’t really have your own friendships with them? Then it might be the most “fair” to consider inviting these friends’ partners. If you have left off some friend’s partners who you don’t know, then it’s fine to leave these ones off, too, regardless of how serious the relationship is.
My slightly more complicated (or perhaps liberating for you — idk!) answer is that you can invite or not invite whoever you want to your wedding. A lot of “guest list” etiquette is outdated when it comes to +1s — and I don’t mean in the sense that obviously old and heteronormative rules don’t take into account polycules or poly relationship structures but just in the sense that +1s in general don’t always need to be the default. Not everyone on the guest list for my wedding gets a +1 — even for some folks who are monogamously partnered! My fiancé and I basically went with our own personal “rules” for +1s, which weren’t codified rules at all but just rather who we thought it made the most sense to invite. We have some friends who are newer to our lives, and it just didn’t make a ton of sense for us to invite their partners who we’ve never met. We have some friends who we spend a ton of time with who never really bring their partners around, so in some of those cases, we also didn’t feel bad about not extending +1s. I have cousins in Norway who are invited who are married or otherwise in longterm partnerships whose partners are not invited, which I knew would be especially chill because Norwegians think Americans are kinda extra with all the +1 stuff at weddings.
The size of your guest list is the #1 determining factor for the cost of your wedding — full stop. I don’t think anyone understands this until they’ve planned a wedding themselves (myself included!), but the smallest adjustments to size can make a huge difference. It’s not “just a few extra people” in a lot of cases; it automatically makes the price of food, drink, programs, etc go up. And if you’re planning a small wedding, then it makes it all the more true that small fluctuations would have a big impact. The thing that really stands out to me is that you’ve never met these other people in the polycule. Except in a few very rare cases, my fiancé and I aren’t inviting anyone who hasn’t been met by at least one of us.
Every time I experienced stress while working on our guest list, I had a helpful friend who reminded me that there’s no way to make everyone happy; you should focus on making yourselves happy. No one should be invited to a wedding solely because you feel socially obligated to do so. You have to come up with whatever “rules” make the most sense for you — and they can be amorphous like ours ultimately were.
Of course, no one should feel excluded just because they choose a polyamorous approach to their relationships. Ask yourself this though: If these two people who you’re both friends with had recently broken up and were now seriously dating new people, would you invite those new partners? If any of your monogamous friends broke up and started seeing new people, would you invite those new people, too? If the answer is yes without a doubt, then sure, go ahead and invite their full polycule. If the answer is no or you’re unsure, then maybe remind yourselves that what really matters is the people you’re closest to are at your special day, and sometimes that doesn’t include everyone those people are also close to.
Also, something that’s helpful to keep in mind is that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with guest +1s being on, for lack of a better phrase, a “backup list.” If you have enough people decline when they RSVP to your wedding, then perhaps you can add in extra +1s — either for these friends or for other friends who are in new relationships or even for single friends who you think might benefit from a date. In general, my guest list has what I call a “no randos” policy, which basically means no blanket +1s for folks — except in a few individual cases where I know the person invited ONLY knows me and my fiancé and I wanted them to have a buddy. See, this is what I mean by amorphous rules! Be flexible and not overly constrained by etiquette, which can be super rigid!
I totally understand the impulse of wanting to make sure your approach to social expectations are inclusive and fair, but I also think it’s okay to play by your own rules when it comes to a wedding and go with your instincts. So long as the decision is being made from a place of what you actually want and not what you think others expect of you, I think whatever choice you make is ultimately yours and doesn’t have to be defended to anyone. The fact that you’re asking this question in the first place signals to me that you take your friends’ relationships seriously.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I have a friend I’ve known for many years. She’s part of one of the queer friend groups I hold closest to my heart. I love her and I want to support and encourage her — but she is the most thin-skinned person I have ever known — and it gets so exhausting I find myself begging off with the whole friend group just so I don’t have to hear it.
She takes EVERYTHING personally, even things that have nothing to do with her. I comment something nice on another friend’s IG, she wants to know why I didn’t comment something nice on her IG. The bartender misses filling her water, he’s mistreating her on purpose. We’re talking about TikTok influencers and I say “Oh they only have 500 followers” and she says “Well I only have 70 followers, I guess I’m worthless too.” Someone in our friend group tweets something that, again, has nothing to do with her, and all of a sudden she’s on the group text saying “Well if you say that people are going to think this this and this about me.” (To be clear she’ll be texting that to everyone EXCEPT the person who tweeted the offense because she’ll never actually confront anyone about anything, she just complains about the perceived slights behind their backs.)
I’ve tried so many strategies. I’ve tried asking “But do you think that was intentional?” to get her to think more deeply about what’s upset her. I’ve tried suggesting she talk directly to the offenders. I even tried suggesting something someone once said in an advice answer here about how most people are never thinking about us, they’re only thinking about themselves, and how there’s freedom in recognizing that we don’t constantly have to be worrying what people are thinking about us because they’re not, but that was absolutely the WRONG thing to say. In fact, anything but outright agreeing with her that she’s a victim is gaslighting or not honoring her feelings or something.
She’s obviously miserable all the time and I don’t want to add onto that. I don’t want to lose my friend group either. I understand being sensitive. I’m sensitive. But I do not understand taking everything personally all the time. Am I being shitty? Do you have any advice for how I might salvage my friend group and maybe even my relationship with this woman I’ve known so long?
Before I jump into the heart of the issue here, I just want to point out how much you truly care for and love your friend. Instead of blowing up in her face, complaining to her, gossiping, or even just abandoning your friendship altogether, you’ve worked through quite a few solutions to help your friend and keep the friendship. It’s truly commendable because this is extremely difficult emotional labor. I want to give you the A+ friend credit you deserve because you’ve done a lot of behind-the-scenes work to keep her in your friend group and your life.
When I saw your post, I immediately thought of the friends that have come and gone in my life. I’ve had this friend. In fact, I’ve had quite a few of these friends, so I know how truly conflicted and frustrated you probably feel. The advice you found on Autostraddle about most people having selfish thoughts is generally smart advice. That’s honestly something I would’ve suggested because it’s definitely helped me. I think this advice worked in the past most of the time because a lot of us are hyper-conscious about what we look like, wear, eat, laugh, etc. in public, so when we take a step back and see that everyone else is only thinking about themselves, it makes people like you and me feel a bit better. However, it seems like this was the wrong thing to say because your friend wants to be loved, cared for, given attention to. She yearns to be thought of.
What I hear from the anecdotes you shared is someone who is deeply lonely and feels deeply unseen. Even as adults, we function like toddlers. We throw tantrums and get attention when we have a need that isn’t met. It’s pretty clear this is what your friend is doing. What seems to make this more difficult is that you and your friends are showing up for her, giving her attention, and saying “we’re here! we’re your friend! we love you!” and she doesn’t seem able to soak that in. The key world here is able. I’m sure if she could take all your love and hold it in, she would. It makes me wonder if you two have ever had a heart-to-heart about her deep insecurities, or if she’s even far removed from tapping into that herself.
This advice might be a little controversial, but when it comes to keeping friends, a lot of them are in your life for only a season. I write this with a lot of grief in my heart because I’ve lost so many friends as I’ve grown closer to the person I want to become. This is a part of life. A shitty one, but a part nonetheless. I’m not suggesting you throw the friendship away, but I am suggesting you take a step back and look at your friendship from a bird’s eye view. Has this always been the dynamic? Do you feel responsible for her? Do you feel like you need to fix her? Oftentimes, I’ve felt compelled to put in more work than I should to “fix” someone just so they don’t bring the group down. Even if your intentions are much purer than mine, you can only help someone who wants to be helped.
Your friend doesn’t sound like she’s in the place to accept help, and unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that. What I will suggest, though, is reframing the way you respond to her comments. You can try rediecting the conversation to making her feel seen. For example, in the conversation about commenting on the friend’s IG post, you could say something like “I’m here with you now in person and this is how I show my love (or insert your love language). I didn’t mean to offend you and if you feel most loved through IG comments I can try and do better.” Granted, you don’t want to get into this loop of feeling like you have to constantly attend to her social media, but commenting a few times with intention might provide further insight into what she’s really looking for. As for a scenario like the TikTok followers, you could try and hit her with the cold hard truth: “I totally get why you’re upset. I sometimes get let down by how few followers I have, too. However, did you know most of those followers are bots/fake profiles? You have the comfort of knowing that the 70 people who follow you really care for you. I don’t know if [insert influencer] could really say that about their followers.” I’m wondering if a simple rephrasing away from the outer world and more towards her inner world of support could be helpful. Sometimes people need to have their support systems drawn out for them.
Additionally, you can point her in the direction of resources to help her like therapy or even free self-help apps like Woebot (I just learned about this in my therapy program!). I’ve learned from experience that even if you say all the right things, suggest resources, and even physically drive someone to therapy, none of it will matter if they don’t want to meet you half way, or really even a quarter of the way. You can’t be your friend’s therapist, even if you want what’s best for her. You’re allowed to love people from afar as they grow, change, and figure things out. I hope you’re able to strike a balance between wanting to support and feeling a sense of obligation. Sending you and this friend lots of warmth and affirmation!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.