Moral Dessert: Misguided Dating Habits of a Cis/Het Male

I want to take a quick moment to thank you all for continuing to read these posts as I go through this period of self-discovery. This blog has gone through a lot of subject matters over the years. When I began writing it, I had this intention to inspire people. Now, it’s mostly an online journal. I’m not actually telling ALL of my business. I’m just sharing the details of my life when I think my words may resonate with some of my readers. With that being said, thank you again for staying with me on this journey.

The story of my dating life has a few, unshakeable, memories that most certainly shaped my approach to relationships. Two of those memories from childhood, still hold a small plot of emotional real estate.

The first incident happened in 5th (or was it 6th) grade. I wrote the universal grade school crush letter. “I like you. Do you like me? Check Yes __ or No __” For the sake of the story, we’ll call her P. When P received the letter and realized from whence it came, her response was as if someone offered her a skunk meat sandwich on moldy bread. “Ugghhhh, him! Hell no! Nope!” The teacher was out of the room. P stood up, walked to the trash, and stopped at a desk to mark X next to “No” with exaggerated arm movements. She then crumpled the paper, tossed it in the bin, walked back to her desk, stopped half way back, went back to the bin, pulled the note out of the trash and flattened it, and drew another big X mark on it (still muttering “nope” and other “hell naw” variations). After crumpling and tossing it a second time, she finally made it back to her desk and I just sat silently through the whole thing. It’s important to mention that she didn’t owe me a favorable answer just because I liked her, she didn’t have to like me. It’s also worth noting that she didn’t owe me any kindness. I have no idea what she was dealing with in her life at that age. For all I know, I could have looked like someone she didn’t like for different reasons. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ What I learned from that experience was that when asking a question, we must be prepared for any answer and any delivery of that answer. That lesson had greater staying power since it was accompanied by the sting of embarrassment.

The second experience happened in June of 1989 when I went on my first date. We were going on a field trip to a roller skating rink (I miss the 80s) to celebrate our “graduation” from 6th grade. For the sake of the story, we’ll call her W. I called W and asked her “out” (seeking her consent to buy her a slice and a pop during the field trip). She said yes and I was over the moon! I had my mama promptly take me to Kmart so that I could buy the finest Batman t-shirt available for my first date. I had every intention of passing that shirt down to my son for his first date. Yep, at age 11, I thought that I would inevitably be a father and a husband some day. More on that later, back to the story of my first date. W and I held hands, skated a few laps together, and talked over a slice of pepperoni pizza and a Pepsi. When we lined up to leave and get back on the bus, a few 7th graders came in. I recognized them from last year and they had gone on the same field trip. This one Buttface with braces, cozied up next to W and began talking to her in a real familiar way. He then held her hand and walked her over to me. He got in my face, close enough to feel his breath on my lip. With W on his heels, he said, “Stay away from my girl…ALRIGHT!” as aggressively as a 7th grader could. I gave W the, “Really? You good with this?” look without saying a word and she just looked at the ground. I just looked back at Buttface and said, “ok”. They left together and that was the last time I saw either of them.

What those two experiences taught me was to 1.) make sure that the person on whom I crush reciprocates those feelings before I make some grand display of affection. It took many more years to understand the other lesson in that experience. My telling a woman that I’m into her should be more of a conversation than a proclamation. Cis/Het* men are taught to just be all like, “I LIKE YOU! YOU BE MINE RIGHT MEOW, YES!?” We’re taught that conveying that message is enough and that somehow she’ll fall over herself and right into our arms. My takeaway from that experience with W was that 2.) I should work to be a better man. My logic was that if I had more to bring to the table of couple hood then no one I was dating would want to leave with anyone else. Basically, be the best option in the room. Growing up with parents who’d been married for decades, I thought marriage was in the cards for me as well. I began working on myself to be a better man back in the ’90s. I gave myself dating advice which made as much sense as being my own lawyer in court, with no legal training. My alternatives were my older brother or our cousin who was like a big brother to us both. To put things into perspective my cousin once told me, “Hey, man! If you ever want to have sex with a girl, just show her ya dick!” (Before you ask, yes, I did that. Yes, it worked. Nope, not proud of it. I was in high school and doing what seemed like sound advice to my 16 year-old self. I stopped doing that after a few times, you know when I learned to use my words.) I really could have used some advice on dating from someone who was NOT a cis/het male.

This is an example of songs men write when we don’t understand the basic concept of a woman having a choice (and not choosing to be with us), you know even when we “do everything she wants”.

As a cis/het male, society has conditioned us to “go out and get the girl” (GOAGTG) and that’s problematic on many levels. For starters, the concept of “getting” a human being is folly. The way that Buttface used the word my stung me in the heart. He called W, “my girl” as if she was just something he’d picked up at the mall. That experience helped me to avoid such language. I’m still averse to calling someone mine. In any relationship, the woman I’m with is never mine. If she creates space in her life for she and I to deepen a bond, great. If not, so be it. But, no one I date will be mine and I will not be anyone else’s possession either.

Another problem with the GOAGTG societal conditioning of boys/men is that it turns us into opportunists. Have you ever watched a man talk to a woman he (obviously) finds attractive? Aside from the comedic moments when he trips over his own tongue, there are often the cringeworthy moments when that opportunistic switch flips on in his brain, heart, penis, or all of the above. A conversation about libraries gets pushed towards, “You gotta man?” A conversation about politics not-so-subtly segues into, “What’s your phone number?” A conversation with the staffer at Trader Joe’s moves to, “What are you doing later tonight!?” It’s difficult for cis/het men to meet an attractive woman and just be cool. We often have to “get” her somehow. I use italics with the word have because if we don’t, the unwritten law of toxic masculinity dictates that we are less than men. So, there’s peer pressure to, “holla at that” or “hit that” or hunt/conquer women in some way. I want to be clear, this is not an, “Aww, poor men haz it so bad! They’re products of a toxic culture.” sort of post. No. This post isn’t a plea for sympathy. Nevertheless, it is true that any dude you may consider to be trash is a product of a toxic culture. Hunt hunt hunt, get her! It’s what we’re taught and as a society we need to be careful about all of the subtle ways in which we push the GOAGTG agenda. If we ever want rape/harassment culture to end, we need to change the conversations we’re having with young men about their dating conquests. How about you DON’T show her ya dick… unless she explicitly asks to see it. (Fun Fact: I’ve never met a woman who was thrilled to receive an unsolicited dick pic from Rando Dude online. Your own independent research might yield similar findings.) I could write about the GOAGTG mentally for thousands of words. But, if you’ve taken time to people watch at many bars, you’ve seen what I mean even if you didn’t experience it first-hand. I’ve spent years #unlearning the GOAGTG habits and I still work on releasing these practices every day. Well, at least I thought I was releasing these practices.

As it turns out, I was fooling myself into believing that I was not implementing GOAGTG tactics. I told myself that I wasn’t looking for her, not trying to “get” or “land” or “close” on her. Because I wasn’t looking, I was all self-righteous and shit. Nose in the air and convincing myself I wasn’t like those other cats. As time went on and relationship disappointments piled up, I changed my tune. I went back to my childhood decision. I wanted to bring to the table (of couple hood) everything I wanted her to have when the mythical “she/her” fell from the sky or told me a secret in her gargoyle form. (See below for the reference, watch both clips and assume all of the trigger warnings.) So, I was no longer looking for her. But, I began to subconsciously expect her. I was preparing myself to be a better man in hopes of being a good partner/husband/father. I wanted to be the best version of myself when she showed up.

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, there’s been a trend in my dating life. Women I’ve dated tend to reach a point where they decide that they just can’t see themselves partnering with me. When that happened several times, I had to look at the constants in the equation. Obviously, I’m the first constant. When I looked closer at the second constant, the type of women I was dating, I found some new information. Two women, in the course of a week, came to me and mentioned that they stopped spending time with me because they either felt intimidated by me or felt this unspoken pressure to (in their words) “keep up” with me. I had to pay attention to the signpost of two women saying, essentially, the same thing about how they saw me. When they referenced keeping up with me they mentioned their perception that I “had my shit together”. Fun Fact: I don’t. I do NOT have my shit together. Sure, I’m disciplined in some ways. I’m also a complete fuck up in other ways. Nevertheless, I won’t argue with someone’s perception or dispute someone’s feelings. Much of my discipline stems from that decision at age 11 to step up and be better. But, wait a minute! You mean to tell me that my efforts to be a better person have backfired and scared some potential partners away? I felt like a fucknugget for creating and looping my very own catch 22. Wow!

I listened to them both, without retort. However, in my knee-jerk (internal dialogue) defense, I decided that I shouldn’t apologize for trying to be a better person. I’m unlearning toxic (read: shitty) behaviors and I’m making an effort to evolve when my self-awareness Spidey-sense goes off that I’ve caused anyone emotional anxiety. (File this conclusion under self-righteous.) Once I was done with that ego trip, I began to look deeper within myself, my dating origin story, and my motivations. Recently, I’d been thinking a lot about moral philosophy and the concept of moral dessert. I won’t bullshit you, NBC’s The Good Place planted a lot of seeds that helped point me to this latest epiphany. What was my real motivation for trying to be a better person? Sure, I was preparing myself to be a good partner/husband/father. But, with that was the underlying assumption that I would meet an ideal partner/wife/mother-of-imagined-children. I’ve convinced myself for years that I wasn’t searching for her. However, I was expecting her (which is just passively searching). So, that’s when it all came to light. I was trying to be good/better in hopes of a moral reward in the form of a partner showing up in my life. Holy shit! I had a moment when the weight of that really hit me.

I began to think about all of the well-meaning women in my life who tell me that I’d make a great partner or that I deserve romantic partnership-level love. While I’m aware that their words were fueled by kindness, I don’t know if I ever agreed with them. The word deserve/deserving has always been a sticky one for me. We decide that someone else deserves something based on our perception of their actions. If we think someone did something unforgivable (like microwaving fish in the employee break room or clipping their toenails on an airplane) then we decide that they deserve something equally unforgivable be done unto them. If we have low-self-esteem, we tend to believe that we don’t deserve anything beyond the limits of our own imagination. I don’t really think it’s up to us (humans) to determine who is/isn’t deserving of this experience or that moral reward. I don’t think it’s up to any celestial being to determine such verdicts of deserving either. I see people writing about how the “universe” is conspiring to bring the perfect person into your life. I’m sorry, but that’s a load of cat shit. The universe doesn’t care about pairing up humans to live happily ever after, that’s just something we tell ourselves to satiate our longing for companionship. Before anyone misinterprets my words as jaded, please understand that I’m just a pragmatist. I still believe in magic and all that jazz. But, when we spend time spinning mythology that celestial beings are playing matchmaker just for us, we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment. We then begin to question why we’re still alone if we’re good (read: deserving) people. It was exactly that mentality that I needed to change.

So, what do I do meow? I still don’t think there’s anything wrong with making the effort to unlearn toxic behaviors and evolve. Moving forward, it’s important that I continue to make decisions leading with compassion (which is a daily practice that I don’t always get right). In the process of my evolution, I must rid my spirit of any ulterior motives or expectations. So, if you need me, I’ll be trying to unlearn (or at least adjust) a practice I began almost thirty years ago. I’m not actively dating these days. I like to call it passive dating, where I pretty much only go on a date when asked and even then I’m super clear about the state of my heart and mind. I don’t really do the asking anymore. I’m no longer on a mission to GOAGTG. I’m trying to grow and be a better person. These days, I’m making those efforts just for me, with no expectation of a moral reward in the form of a partner.

*-Cis/Het is an abbreviation for a cisgender heterosexual person. Someone who is cisgender has a gender identity that matches the sex they were assigned at birth.

#dating, #relationships, #love, #lovers, #romance, #universe, #TheGoodPlace, #morals, #MoralPhilosophy, #MoralDessert, #partner, #PersonalGrowth, #unlearning

Advertisements

Love Your Sweat

There are many times that I’m certain my words will get me fired from my job as a fitness coach. Taken out of context, some of the things I say to my clients would certainly raise some eyebrows. Recently, I said eight letters, three words to a client that would certainly fall under the “outside of my scope as a trainer” umbrella. I told a client, “I love you.” *Cue the dramatic music as the audience gasps* It’s true, I love my clients. I don’t have a favorite, all of my clients are completely different from one another. But, I love them all for the same reasons. In each of my clients, I see a human being that has made a conscious decision to take control of their fitness level. We don’t lose our health with old age, instead we give it away throughout our lives with the unhealthy choices that we make.

There are times when my clients will scream, cuss, cry, call out for Jesus, or tell me that they hate me. I embrace the four agreements, so I don’t take (most) things personally. I get it. I recognize the catharsis behind their words and actions and it makes me love my clients even more. We all have a choice. We have a choice to step up to challenges and gain strength or we can accept what’s in front of us and choose not to take charge of our fitness level. We can choose to be any BODY that we want. Trust me, before you start listing the excuses, I’ve heard most of them and used the rest of them myself.

Love who you are and grow stronger from there. In daily interactions, I’d love to see more body faming and less body shaming. Shouldn’t it be easier to see the beauty in ourselves and others than it is to find reasons for critique and judgment? I love my clients for making the choice to not judge themselves (too harshly) and committing to a new challenge in their lives. “Jet, you don’t know your clients very well. We judge ourselves all of the time!” That may be true. But, perhaps it’s the raised serotonin levels from the workout. When I see my clients sweating and smiling, I see self love manifest. I see someone that doesn’t want to fall victim to hereditary diseases. I see someone that recognizes the relationship between body composition and life expectancy. (Quick note on BMI, ignore it. BMI is an outdated metric used by insurance companies to make denying coverage easier. BMI doesn’t take a lot of other deciding factors-BF% for one-into consideration. So, at 5’11”, 195 pounds and 10% body fat, BMI will list a person as overweight.) In my clients, I see a human being that is in a better mood by the end of the session (even if the only reason for the better mood is that the session has ended). Keep doing what you’re doing. Keep putting in the work. Love your sweat.

Do You Thank Your Lover?

In the early 90’s, ABC had a show called ‘Homefront’ that took place circa WWII. I remember watching a scene that involved an older, father-figure, character telling a younger man to “grab your wife firmly around her waist the next morning and thank her for last night”. When I watched this episode I had only had sex a few times and I didn’t have a wife on whom I could try this form of gratitude. Nevertheless, it seemed like a good idea to me. I ran the hypothetical idea by a platonic female friend and she recoiled in horror. “You can’t say that! It will make her feel like a whore!” Wow! Those were strong words coming from an 11th-grader. But, I was young so I took one woman’s advice as the gospel.

You can bet your paycheck that no one has ever complained of being over appreciated. It’s just never happened. The sticking point of contention occurs with the delivery/expression of gratitude. This goes for all human interaction. Try slapping your lover on the ass and saying, “thanks, slut!”, after sex. Unless you’re in a role playing scene and have chosen not to break character, that may not be the ideal way to express gratitude.

FWIW: This post isn’t intended to tell you the correct way to speak to your lover. That’s left to the agreements that the 2+ of you have with each other. While there are certainly wrong ways to express gratitude I’ll try to avoid getting sidetracked with an abundance of ‘what not to do’ bullet points.

You’ll notice that I keep using the phrase “express gratitude” in reference to recreating the “thank you” scene from ‘Homefront’. That’s because some people, while grateful for the sentiment, hear the words thank you and feel as if it cheapens the experience. On the flip side, everyone expresses their gratitude in a different manner. How a person expresses gratitude often gets distilled down to their love language. If you (or your lover) are unaware of your love language, it’s a good idea to have a conversation about how you express yourself. (I’ve never read the book, nor am I endorsing it. But, you can at least recognize your patterns for expressing love.) If you’ve taken a new lover and they’re unaware that you express your appreciation through physical touch, they may just mislabel you as handsy. Despite the love language of you or your lover, most will recognize the expression of gratitude in the form of gestures. Some time ago I wrote a post that read: My lover told me that I’m the only man that’s ever made her breakfast. *sigh* Gentlemen, please step it up! That post received a huge response! In one of the comments, a friend mentioned that her BF had bought her flowers (a first) and made her dinner (another first) as a response to my call to action. He wanted to “step it up” and show her that he appreciated her. Comedian Nick Offerman (aka Ron Swanson) once joked about how much more sweet sweet loving men would receive from their wives if they were to make a birthday/anniversary/just because card by hand as opposed to buying something from a store. There’s some truth to that. Get in the habit of making things for your lover to express how you feel. It could be as simple as making a… phone call. Phone call! Who does that? What is this 2005? I know, I know. But, try it out. Try it out when you’re asking for that sweet sweet loving. Think it through. Would you rather receive a text message that reads, “wanna come over” or would you rather hear your lover on the line saying, “Do you want to spend some time together tonight?”

There is a marked absence of the word “please” in societal interactions. Listen to the way people speak to those that work behind a counter. You may hear lots of thank you notes in their responses. But, how often do you hear please in their requests? I’ve worked behind enough counters/bars to know that it ain’t often. Of course, I’m not suggesting that you call up your lover and go on some 90’s R&B-inspired monologue requesting, “may I please make love to you?” That just sounds… hilarious. There are other ways to say please without using the word. Just ask nicely and don’t assume that sex will happen. I’ve had conversations in the past that yielded the following response, “I’d love to see you. But, you should know that we can’t have sex tonight because reasons.” I would immediately respond with an emphatic “thank you for being upfront about that!” This post is really just about kind communication from all sides. As the moment draws near, you could make your request by taking a cue from Barry White. This is an actual quote from his song ‘Staying Power’, “Tease me with your emotion. Soon we’ll share nature’s body lotion.” (Use that one with a straight face and I’ll send you $100,000… in Monopoly money. I’ll make it $200,000 if your lover doesn’t walk out.)

After all is said and done*, be careful not to say thank you too soon lest your lover think that you’re about to leave. If it’s that time during the sexy rumpus when you get up to get some water, juice, more condoms, a fresh towel, etc. that may be too soon to say “thank you”. Are you going somewhere? Your lover may wonder.

*-Done should not be defined by an orgasm (for either of you). Keep going until someone taps out.

Gentlemen, still at a loss for words as to how you can say thank you? Here are a few phrases that you can edit to make your own.

-“I’m glad that you came… to see me.”

-“Thank you for making the time, I know that you’ve been busy with reasons.”

-“Goddamn!” *high five* [You can get up and dance from the excitement. Have some fun!]

As I mentioned, expressions of gratitude for sweet sweet loving should be happening between any and all genders. Nevertheless, Gentlemen, we can take a lesson from the airlines when we express gratitude to women for their company. “We know that you have many choices for penis travel and we’re glad that you chose us.”

In all seriousness, my personal definition of work ethic is to never make my employer regret their decision to hire me. That same work ethic applies to making sweeeet love. If she’s made a decision to be with me, I don’t want her to regret it during or after. That’s why I express my gratitude.

Ambition: A Fear of Mediocrity

Ambition is the fear of mediocrity. Ambition is the fear of being mediocre. You can apply this mantra to many aspects of your life. Fitness training: Did you put on your snazzy minimalist running shoes, moisture wicking shirt, and hustle to your favorite fitness class or training session just to put forth a mediocre effort? No. You didn’t. Don’t just show up, put in the work and reach your goals. Career path: Did you work over time and sacrifice your personal life to hate your job as it subtly sucks away your soul? The harder you work, the richer you’ll make the owners. You have to honor your gifts and talents by shunning the mediocre path for a path that ignites your fire inside. Educational efforts: Did you pay all of that tuition just for a class average curve or would you rather excel and learn something? Be afraid of the class average, embrace ambition and be a better student. Romantic efforts: Was there ever a time when you looked at your partner and thought of how lucky you were to have her/him in your life? Do you honor that lucky feeling with mediocre effort or do you express your love in ever-evolving ways? Steer clear of the mediocre love path. The path of ambitious love will help you to treat your partner the way THEY want to be treated instead of treating them the way YOU want to be treated.

You should be afraid of “good enough”, “getting by”, “just fine”, “alright”, and other synonyms for mediocrity. Step up and deliver more. I want to be clear. I’m not suggesting that you change your expectations of others. Don’t be that prick that expects above/beyond mediocre from other people after reading this post. When it comes to how we see others, tensions would ease up if we all chose to love more, judge less. That applies to how we feel about ourselves as well. Shunning mediocrity isn’t about judging ourselves harshly because any aspect of our lives is “normal” or status quo. That’s not what this post is about. I’m planting a seed that I hope to grow into a tree of stronger efforts from any and all who read this. What if good enough was no longer good enough? What if we tried harder by working smarter? What if we reduced the peripheral noise, static, drama, beeps, and buzzes from our lives in order to be better at the things we’re passionate about? Embrace your ambition. Step away from the crowd. Everyone has something that sparks their fire. Determine what that something is for you and burn, brighter.

Common sense disclaimer. Every corpse on Everest was once filled with ambition. Don’t be a dumbass. Use your ambition to improve the world, not to stroke your fucking ego. The pic you see of me sky diving was my own search for an adrenaline rush. I don’t (usually) take pics of my philanthropic efforts. Peace.

(Emotionally) Putting Out

Recently, a client explained that she’d decided to *big gulp + deep breath* “put herself out there” in regards to her dating life. Immediately I began to wonder, “WTF does that mean for her?” Hell, what would that mean for someone like me?!? In the age of Uber drop-offs, Tinder hook-ups, and Facebook break-ups, what does it mean for a woman to “put herself out there?” Well, I’ve never been a woman and I’m not going to front as if I have the slightest clue what it feels like to be a single female diving into the deep end of the dating pool, especially within the Me Generation that has a reputation for breaking up via text message. *shakes fist* “These damned, kids!” No. I’ll leave that blog post to someone else to write. I do know what it’s like to be a* Black/Heterosexual/Polyamorous/Male that’s been in the shallow end of the dating pool, wading towards infinity.

*It’s worth mentioning… Categories may shape my experience, but they do not define me as a human being. We all have more dimensions than any several categories.

As a [see above for a refresher on some categories provided to me by society] human, the concept of putting myself out there is interesting. The societal assumption** is that the male is supposed to approach the female in the courting process. “Hey girl! Hit me off with those digits!” “Hey girl! Do you come here often? Let’s go to my place and see if you cum there often!” Well, let’s all be glad that I’ve never been keen on the whole “approach some strange woman in a bar and try to take her home” thing. I’d be getting slapped on a regular basis! Yeah, not my thing. But, wait! If I’m not the Mack of Frama-Lama-Ding-A-Ling, holl’in mo’ game than a referee, then how am I supposed to put myself out there!?

**It’s worth mentioning… That some may view my musings as heteronormative. I don’t think (nor have I ever thought) that heterosexuality is the “normal or preferred sexual orientation.” However, I am heterosexual and I write from my own worldview. My good intention is not to offend. But, we all know what they say about paving the road to hell.

My understanding of the phrase means to let the world know that I’m available and interested in dating and/or pursuing a relationship. Since I’m Polyamorous, I’m currently courting a few people. But, I’ve decided to put myself out there to find a Primary Partner. Two recent conversations helped me to come to this decision.

When my father took ill a few thousand miles away my brother was there to help my mom deal with his deteriorating health. My brother is a single father and he talked about how difficult it is to balance that with watching the slow decline of our Pop. He mentioned how he thought it would be easier to deal with such challenges if he were married. Before he began to explain what he meant, I was picking up what he was putting down. We spoke in agreement about the luxury of a partner that could help with the emotional weight of life. [Update: This happened a few months ago. Pop is doing well and still talkin’ shit. The family and I agreed that it didn’t really make sense for me to come home. So, I call him once a week just to send some love through the phone.]

In a separate incident, not so far away, I was humbled by a conversation with a regular in one of my [Group Exercise] classes. After the class ended, a man walked up to me and introduced himself by name [we’ll call him Jeff]. I found the introduction odd because I had seen Jeff in my class dozens of times. At the time of this odd introduction, it did occur to me that I hadn’t seen him over the past month or so. The introduction got stranger when he asked for my name. Because I know how horrible I am at remembering names, I conceded and we shook hands as if it were a first time meeting. Jeff went on to explain that he had been in a car accident and lost some of his memory. He said, “My wife tells me that I used to come to this class often.” My jaw dropped and I’m sure that I did a poor job of hiding the change in facial expression. The re-introduction made sense and it was an emotional reality check for me. We’ve all heard the gentle reminder to be kind to people because we don’t know what someone’s going through.

Quote

It’s a completely different feeling when you’re faced with the experience of learning what someone else is enduring. At that point, it’s no longer some cliché from a screen, it’s very real. I found myself playing the macabre version of what if after that encounter. What if I lost my memory? Who would help me put the pieces back together? Would I have to give myself a series of tattoos as mementos? It would be nice if I had a wife or a partner to help me with the emotional weight of recovery.

I’ve been adamantly independent since I left home at 18. I’ve certainly had plenty of help along the way. [For all of the friends and lovers reading this that have washed a dish, fed a cat, or just listened to me vent without interruption, you know who you are and I perpetually thank you.] But, with such determined independence I’ve grown accustomed to doing everything by/for myself. The two aforementioned scenarios have acted as stark reminders that, despite preparation, I’m not meant to bear certain types of emotional weight alone. So, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I started using the P[artner]-word again. With this post and two new online dating profiles, I’m officially out there, World!

It’s worth mentioning… I still don’t know WTF “out there” means. I was never hiding or hidden. I’ve never rejected the notion of a Primary Partner. I have certainly had my “Fuck-That-Shit!” moments of angst after a former Partner told me that she’d wait for someone better to come along (that’s not an exaggeration, that’s what she confirmed when I called her out.) But, I’ve always accepted love in my life in the spirit of friendship, aroused physical connections, or both. Now, I’m just showing a profile picture and writing about myself and my ideal her as if I’m shopping on Amazon. [Yes, it feels that weird to me!] So, if you see me on OKC or PolyMatchMaker.com, now you know why. I’m seeking a Polyamorous friend that will be there for me in more ways than I can possibly list. I’ll know her when I meet her.

Special Note: The last time that I had a dating profile was 2010 and I swore that I’d rather stab my eye out with a rusty metal dildo than ever fill out another one of those goddamned “this is why you should pick me” biographies. In my 24 hours back in this online dating world, I’ve noticed that women still do three silly things with their profile pictures. [Before anyone tries to derail this special note, I’m aware that men do the same or worse shit with their profile pics. But, I’m not searching for them, so write your own post about the dumb ass Bro photos. You can also read this post to understand why you will continue to receive dick pics.] 1.) Group Photos. I don’t know what you look like well enough to know which one is you. Furthermore, why is that your default pic? 2.) Faux Diversity Photos. That picture with your one Black friend doesn’t say anything about the diversity in your circle. That picture with the orphans from your trip to Africa also feels shoehorned. 3.) Self-objectification Photos. I understand that your profile states that you’re just here for casual encounters. But, when all of your pics are of your ass or cleavage (with no face) I’m dumbfounded. WTF!?

Back in Parochial school we sang the hymn, “No Man Is An Island” and I’ve often tried to remind my clients that accepting support and love is a sign of intelligence and strength. Strength is a choice and I’ve made the choice to accept the support and love of a partner because I’m following my own advice.

10 Things I Love About You

This week, I’m asking you to do the work. You just have an assignment to complete.

Write a love letter to your body.

Step 1: Get naked. Don’t make a big deal out of it. You do this before every shower.
Step 2: Using a dry erase marker, write 10 things you love about your body on the bathroom (or other) mirror. This is not a time to restrain your sense of vanity. Focus on everything that you love about your body (and mind) on an aesthetic and kinesthetic level. Is there something that your body can do that you love or appreciate? Write that down as well.
Step 3: Challenge your friends to do the same.
Step 4: Repeat as often as needed.

Why? Because most people can spend 30 seconds talking non-stop about what displeases them about their bodies. When was the last time that you honored your gift and said thank you for the ability to think, move, fuck, etc.?

What if you don’t make it to 10 things you love about your vessel? (Spoiler: A lot of people don’t make it to 10.) Keep trying. Keep digging. Keep loving. Share your reflections on the experience (but not your actual list – that’s personal) in the comments below.