Something I’ve struggled with throughout my whole (not so grand) dating history is the fact that I can’t really place myself within the structure of lesbian dating. I’m physically hour glassed shaped, but feel uncomfortable with overtly feminine presentation, at the same time I’m not drawn to more masc presenting styles. I also fluctuate in type, all my past relationships have been with femme women (who I was very much attracted to), but my major crushes, that I didn’t gather the bravery to pursue, were mostly masc of center. I can’t figure out who I want to pursue, who I want to be, and how I want to present myself. I’m a little older and I still struggle with being “butch” enough to swipe on a hot fem girl, or “sweet enough” for a classic “top.” I’ve been told it should feel natural. People always talk about how as part of coming out you “dress/act as who you truly are,” but how do you proceed when every outfit feels like a costume and every date you go on a performance?
I just let out a super long, emotional sigh. I can very deeply relate to the questions you’re asking yourself. Even though you would think that we as a queer community could have collectively come to the conclusion by now that specific dating stereotypes, like the idea that everyone must pair up in a butch-femme dynamic, don’t need to be followed, it often feels as though there is still only one specific formula to follow when it comes to queer dating and presentation, particularly when you don’t see yourself fitting into any box neatly. This becomes even more confusing when you factor in your relationship to your body, your personal style, and how you want to present yourself to future lovers. I’ve been told the “just be yourself” and “dress in what makes you comfortable” thing, but those questions always drive me crazy because I can never quite answer them; I don’t feel comfortable in femme clothes or super masc clothes, especially because I’m also hourglass shaped, which makes me feel high femme when I’m wearing anything femme of center, and a little dysmorphic when I’m trying to appear more butch. And then, there’s the question of who I want to attract; Should I dress more butch because I want a femme girl, or should I dress more femme to attract a soft butch? It’s at this moment when I attempt to pause my racing thoughts by staring in the mirror and recognizing that I’m operating from a place of assumptions about “what a queer couple should look like” that aren’t true, but knowing and feeling are two totally different things.
So what do we do when we can’t figure out how to feel like ourselves and we can’t even figure out who we’re attracted to? I’m on this journey with you, and while I wish I could wave a magic wand and give you super confidence and the perfect partner, we all know that even gay magic has its limits. I will share, however, a little part of my journey that may shed some light on finding identity within queer dating.
Over the past few years I’ve been hellbent on looking and feeling more butch and putting “top” energy into the world. I changed my whole wardrobe, switched who I was swiping on, and started being the aggressor in relationships. Similar to you, I felt like I was performing certain parts of who I was, or wanted to be but I didn’t really know why? Because of this, I always felt like my very real love of “softer” or “straighter” things like Disney princesses, musical theater, and Taylor Swift was too femme for my public dating personality, so I would hide it strategically. At first, I would just enter into dates and sexual encounters by asking the other person questions, but soon I found myself swerving frantically around topics like weddings, family, and emotions, sensing that in order to be the “cool” top, I needed to engage in emotionless sex, hate my family, and hate the institution of marriage. While all of these things are totally fine and great for other people, they are definitely not me. I’ve realized that I’m not actually happy with this aggressive persona I was trying to create because in all honesty, at the end of the day I’m still a head-in-the-clouds dreamer who wants to be proposed to at Disneyworld (I know, I know). This doesn’t mean I can’t be masc and love all of the things I love, but it made me realize that I should be the person who will attract someone I actually want to be with because they like the authentic me. To put it more simply, I don’t want to attract someone who only likes me because they think I have “cool” taste in music or because I told them I want to live off the grid just so I can sound impressive. Ultimately that would end in heartbreak for both of us.
So, I guess I have some questions for you. What do you want from dating apps? What do you want from dating? How do you want to feel about yourself when you look in the mirror: sexy, confident, cute, smart, all of the above? By naming what you want from a specific tool or outfit, it might give you clues as to how to feel more true to yourself. For example, if you’re using dating apps to find a long-term partner, it might be helpful to envision the mental and emotional qualities you want in a long term partner and how you imagine you’ll feel when you’re with that person. From there, you can navigate through people who have those traits. If you’re going out for a night and want to look hot as hell, think about the last time you felt hot, and then think about why. Was it because you were surrounded by your supportive friends? Or maybe because you had on really comfortable shoes that let you dance for longer? “Hot” doesn’t have to mean leather jacket, low cut shirt, or ripped jeans. When you name the feeling you want to have for the occasion you’re dressing for, I encourage you to notice things that feel familiar and good, and go from there.
It’s TOTALLY okay to feel sexy in a cut-off one day and then fly as hell in a dress the next. It’s okay not to cut your hair or wear lipstick. Even though it feels like these are simple reminders, I’m partially writing this to also remind myself that it’s okay! We don’t need to have one particular vibe, type, or style. Furthermore, it’s totally valid to present masc and be with someone masc presenting. It’s valid to present femme and be with someone femme presenting. It’s valid to be androgynous presenting and be with someone androgynous. When it comes to queerness, no rules apply! We don’t gatekeep! Go for the hot butch if you want! Even if you find it difficult to let go of labels and static dating roles, I would encourage you to just take the next step that feels right to you in this moment. You don’t have to have it all figured out now, next week, or next year. When the time comes to hit on someone, swipe on someone, be “yourself” on a date, or dress yourself, think in really small steps: what feels good right now? What should I say in this moment that is true to me? Don’t worry about what will feel good in 20 days — you can think about that then. Trust your intuition in all of the small steps and I guarantee you will lead yourself closer to a you that feels more authentic.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I got rejected on a dating app and I hate not having a girlfriend. I’m single and lonely. What do I do?
—Single Forever
I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way.
First and foremost, I recommend Dani’s words on navigating rejection as a single person. I’ve written on rejection, too. I’m also sorry to say that rejection is an unavoidable part of using dating apps. Every person I know — including myself — has at some point experienced rejection on dating apps. Sure, there are these fairytale stories I’ve heard of people downloading an app, matching with one person, and then deleting the app and going on to marry them or whatever but that is NOT THE NORM!!!!! I reject the idea that rejection isn’t an inherent part of dating — and especially dating apps, where a lot of things become oversimplified for the sake of convenience. I find it helpful to remind yourself that rejection often has more to do with the other person than with you. It can be a tough message to actually accept and digest, but just tell yourself over and over that this was a choice made by someone else, and you ultimately have no control over that choice.
Sometimes, I think that in order to reset our minds about dating, we need to focus on things other than dating.
Why do you want a girlfriend? Why do you dislike being single? I’m serious! I want you to ask yourself these questions and come up with as many answers as possible. Some can be broad, but it’s good to have some concrete answers, too. I think asking yourself these questions can serve a few functions.
First of all, and perhaps most importantly, this can help you identify your needs and wants in life and then you can figure out ways to address those needs and wants that don’t hinge entirely on dating. Do you want a girlfriend so you can have someone to cook dinner for? Maybe it’s time to start inviting more friends over for dinner at your place. Do you dislike being single because you don’t like going to restaurants or events alone? Again, lean on friends! It’s true that one friend probably can’t check every box for what you’re looking for in connection and companionship. But it can help with feeling less lonely. Do you want a girlfriend because you want someone to make out with and hook up with? It’s possible to find that within friendships, too, though of course not for everyone. Casual sex — also not for everyone! — is also an option and doesn’t have to be viewed as something that undermines the underlying goal of eventually having a girlfriend! Casual hookups can teach you a lot about yourself and what you want. And that can be useful information when navigating dating apps.
Second of all, investigating the reasons beneath these wants will also help you when it comes to dating and finding the right person to suit your lifestyle and needs. I personally don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with going into dating apps with the explicit purposes of just Finding A Girlfriend. But it can also set you up for failure if that’s the only end goal without additional thoughts about what you’re looking for. You could end up over-idealizing another person and overlooking red flags or irrevocable differences because you’re too focused on merely getting a girlfriend. Or you could end up ruling out someone who could be a good match or connection for you because you don’t necessarily see them as having Girlfriend Potential right away. I think it’s good to be clear about what you want when it comes to dating apps. Maybe avoid people who are strictly looking for something casual since that doesn’t sound like what you want. But be open to the idea of dating people who you might not see a future with right away. Life often just doesn’t work out like that! The idea of a magical spark when we meet someone is mostly a fantasy.
Not only do I think you can seek companionship in other ways, but I also think it’s possible you’ve internalized a lot of narratives and stigmas about being single. Being single does not have to feel like a curse. It does not have to feel like a failure. Dating and relationships are hard, and you can put so so so much effort and energy into pursuing a relationship and still have it not work out. Which sucks — I know! But anything that involves another person involves an inherent lack of control.
Are you surrounded by couples in your life? Maybe it’s time to spend more time with or seek out single friends. It might sound silly, but reading about the experiences of other single folks — even humorous stuff! — can also help. You don’t have to feel alone in your loneliness. Instead of seeing singlehood as a blanket bad thing, find some of the upsides. Of course if you still want to date and find a partner, you can still actively work toward that while also learning to accept and embrace aspects of being single.
Good luck, and be gentle with yourself!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hi everyone! I work in an industry where 90% of my colleagues are straight men nearing retirement age. I am almost always the only woman in the room.
For the first few years of my career I managed to brush off microaggressions (and worse) as harmless ignorance. As I’ve progressed, and become more confident in my professional skills, I’ve realized that at least half my colleagues will never listen to me, believe me, or take my advice. It makes it hard to bear the small things, like people joking about how I talk too much or using a diminutive of my name.
So basically, how do I deal? How do I deal with knowing that I’m not likely to progress in my career because I can’t make male colleagues listen to me, and how do I get through the day without getting angry/sad every time I encounter one of the microaggressions that remind me I’m not going to get anywhere?
For what it’s worth, this is an industry-wide issue; for some perspective, a company where I experienced some really sexist hiring practices just won a national diversity award. I do work to improve things for the other women in my current org, but of course my power is limited.
I’ve been thinking about your question a lot since you submitted it and, honestly, since long before. The limiting effects of sexism (and racism) on my career have plagued me for years, and, like you, I’ve been left asking myself what exactly I’m working for or towards. The sad reality is that sexism and racism and ableism and classism and transphobia and homophobia exist in some form or other in every industry and, I would argue, in every workplace.
So, what do you do about it? I wish I had a real answer for you, but every time I’ve sat down to try to write this response, I’ve been faced with a web of unsatisfying half answers. The best I can offer you is a window into my own trajectory to show how I’ve dealt with these types of issues at various points over my professional working life. As I’ve written so many times in response to advice questions, I don’t think there’s ever a “right” path in terms of how to grapple with these issues, though it doesn’t always feel that way. Sometimes, you just have to make the decision that can give you the most peace of mind in the moment, knowing that no decision is ever really permanent.
For years now, I’ve felt pretty hopeless about pursuing a “career” the way so many people talk about it, because the pattern of being overqualified for the positions I’m offered and then working above my title and pay has played out far too many times. And then, I would watch white people and men get a smooth path up the ranks, while one obstacle after another was thrown at me.
At various points, I’ve channeled my frustrations in different ways. In my previous organization, I tried to make changes in the limited ways I could, for instance, by joining the Diversity Council and pushing for more ethical recruitment practices so that I could feel like I was at least making a marginal difference in other people’s lives, if not my own. Eventually, as I saw my efforts repeatedly undermined, I decided it was time to leave that organization. (It’s incredible the twisted way in which people can, on the surface, appear to agree with you about changing their practices in the name of diversity, equity and inclusion and yet refuse to actually implement those practices in their own behavior because they think it doesn’t need to apply to them…)
It sounds like you’ve been trying to affect these types of changes yourself in your own industry and organization. It’s a long, slow and, at times, infuriating game that can feel really pointless depending on the leaders you’re dealing with. But what I’ve realized, in retrospect, is that even if the organization I was in didn’t really implement the changes I wanted to see, I myself learned important things through the process that I could then implement in subsequent positions where I did have a little more say and power. From seeing other people’s shortcomings and failures, I was able to really hone in on the insidious ways in which prejudice and bias reinforce themselves, even in places that are recognized for being “inclusive.” Because I had to come up with concrete proposals to try to pitch to leaders, I ended up researching and reading a lot more about the practices that really matter in terms of equity and inclusion. This is both useful to know in terms of how I approach my own work and interactions with others, and it’s also allowed me to read a lot more into job postings and how the way they’re written speaks volumes to what I can expect from an organization I’m interviewing with.
At the time, though, that experience led me to a certain nihilism and hopelessness about work, that feels relatable in your letter. I ended up making, essentially, a lateral move to another position that I was once again overqualified for, and I used the additional mental bandwidth (and time) that I now found myself with to reassess what I wanted out of my life more broadly. By that point, I had already completely changed careers (I had majored in music in college with the dreams of being a professional violinist), and so I already intellectually rejected the notion that work and career should define us. But I hadn’t been living it because my jobs up until then had completely consumed me. So I was able to use that lateral move to focus more on relationships and, eventually, pursue personal interests outside of work, like writing here. I still faced microaggresions (and worse) at work, but keeping in perspective that I had so much more in my life outside of my full time job helped me take those incidents in stride a little better.
What I’m suggesting can look like a lot of different things. It can mean really putting boundaries around work so that you can focus on other passions that give you more joy and satisfaction (and, hopefully, involve dealing with shitty people less or, at least, on your own terms). It can mean no longer pursuing career advancement in your field so that you don’t have to butt heads with all the bigotry quite as often. (You’ll still deal with it, of course, but at a bit more of a distance.) It can also mean changing fields entirely.
If you love your work for what it is, if you find it meaningful and fulfilling, then I know what I’m suggesting is actually incredibly heartbreaking. In many ways, I went through this with music. I loved playing violin, and music meant the world to me, and yet the racism of that industry really did push me out of it, ultimately (though I hadn’t been able to see it that way at the time). It really is an incredibly hard and painful thing to have to do, but sometimes we have to do what’s best for us. I don’t consider this quitting or giving up or letting the bigots win, even though they have, essentially. It’s about balancing your own needs in a world that is so flawed both fundamentally and structurally that the only changes we can hope to make happen on a truly microscopic level, in the scheme of things. That isn’t to say those changes aren’t worthwhile, but rather that sometimes those changes are so small our day-to-day life is still really quite unbearable.
All my strategies above are about resignation and acceptance, but ultimately, your question is about how to find hope in the midst of the inescapable bigotry that defines the working world. Not knowing your industry, where you work (geographically) or even what point you’re at in your career, my next suggestion might be completely irrelevant, but I feel compelled to make it, nonetheless. For me, at least, my hope of one day moving into a position of leadership with appropriate recognition of my skills and more say in how things are done has kept me going. (Admittedly, in fits and starts, but I think that’s fine. Nothing in life is really linear, anyways.)
This is, undeniably, a long, difficult and, at times, incredibly demotivating game, but a while ago, I realized that if I continued to be in mid-level roles, I would always be left feeling powerless and hopeless. It’s taken me far too long to get the leadership position that I have done under a lower title for years and that I’m qualified for, in large part because of some of those -isms I listed above. Would my story be different if I were a cis white man? Without a doubt. But ultimately, I have gotten an opportunity that I feel genuinely excited about.
Having more power can mean more than just moving up the ranks within your specific field, though. It can also mean doing similar work in a different field or at a smaller organization that might be more willing to hire people on, you know, actual qualifications and not how they present. Or it could mean moving into a space of self-employment where you can dictate and guide in what ways, to what extent and with whom you deal as part of your day-to-day work.
Concretely, the strategies of how to get there are probably things you’re already familiar with. Make sure your work is seen and recognized, even if it means that people will say shitty things like “you talk too much” or “you’re too aggressive.” Find allies in your field, which can include people you don’t fully see eye to eye with but at a minimum generally mean well. Rely on this network to help make meaningful connections to opportunities that eventually move you into positions where you’ll have more say in how things are done. And most importantly, make sure you have a set of personal champions who understand and acknowledge the reality of your experiences while encouraging you to keep trying, because none of this, by any means, is easy or comfortable.
Any way you choose to go, the hardest part (again, for me at least), is believing that change in the status quo that has defined so much of my professional life is even possible and, therefore, worth trying to work towards. This is something I’ve struggled with for a long, long time. It might seem a little hokey, but I’ve tried to find my inspiration by immersing myself in the work of other women who have transcended boundaries and who speak openly and honestly about the structural issues inherent to their experiences, women like Serena Williams and Rhiannon Giddens and Rachel Levine, to name just a few.
On a more personal level, it’s also meant learning strategies for how to play the game I am faced with, and for this I have to credit my closest friends and most especially the Black women in my life. Growing up, I witnessed firsthand as my parents dealt with endless racism in their own careers, but they themselves had no tools for confronting these issues while continuing to move forward. And, spending so much time in white spaces meant that I was either met with outright denial of any issues at all or a severely limited understanding of what I was up against because neither the gay men nor the white women wanted to really acknowledge the elephant in the room of my brown skin. Over the years I’ve found that the Black women in my life have been able to fully appreciate my experiences and struggles, even helping me see things I’ve missed at times, while continuing to encourage me to keep moving forward, because what is the alternative anyways?
Having close friends who I can discuss the details of specific issues I’m facing with has been so, so important to me over the years. Even people who are outside my field but know the realities of sexism and racism have offered me invaluable perspective, advice and encouragement. But, having at least a few people who understand those realities and know the ins and out of my field is also really critical. I know you said that 90% of the people in your industry are white men, but it might be worth seeking out the other 10%, if you haven’t already. See if there are affinity groups for women in your field that might help you connect with others who are in similar boats as you. It might take some time, but eventually you might find a trustworthy mentor or even some friends.
In the end, the things you’re struggling with are really an inescapable part of life and work. That might be a grim way to look at it, but that also means you aren’t alone, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. Perhaps the most important thing to keep in perspective is that the way you approach all of this can and will change as you progress through different parts of your life. Sometimes, you might find you need to move work and career advancement to the back burner and focus on things where you feel more fulfilled and validated. Other times, you might have the motivation and wherewithal to fight the fight for what you deserve. I hope that in sharing some of my experiences in my professional trajectory this far, you’re able to find a few strategies that might sustain you at one point another, as well.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hey y’all,
I am fucking tired, and stressed, and low-key su*cidal, and just don’t know what to do about it anymore.
Things were getting better with the pandemic. And then suddenly every government around the world decided to give up on trying to contain the virus and it just gets worse and worse and worse and I don’t know what to do.
I could
1) spend four hundred dollars on a switch and become a recluse
2) go back to drinking and call it quits
3) ?????
I am so tired with people pretending that the pandemic is no big deal. I’m sick of seeing hospo friends being forced to work when I know their bosses aren’t obeying any of the remaining regulations. I hate seeing people I used to respect post on social media in favour of all those stupid and harmful protests that are going on. I’m scared to death for my disabled and immunocompromised friends and family. And finally, I’m counting down the days until my small town hospital is overrun by cases.
I don’t know what to do. Leaving the house makes me anxious and angry and afraid, but staying in as someone who’s got schizo makes me sick. I’ve made unbelievable progress on my mental health in the last decade, and I’m scared that’s all going to errode in the current global climate.
I’m logging off social media, but I also feel really isolated.
This is big and rambling and you probably can’t answer it, but if you do… halp? pandemic? what do?? aaaaaah???
Lots of love,
MC
First things first: if you are feeling suicidal, please do not suffer alone.
In terms of the pandemic, I want you to know that you are absolutely not alone. Without a doubt, governments are moving away from protections, pretending like the whole thing is over, when in fact, even health experts are saying that we are (once again) throwing caution to the wind. And, as you point out, the most recent conversations around pandemic safety measures completely devalue the lives of the people who are the most at-risk if they get COVID, putting the burden entirely on those individuals and their communities to keep themselves safe, which often means further self-isolation while everyone else moves on with their lives.
I know I’m not saying anything you already don’t know, but I just want you to know that I see you: I see your pain and your fear and your anger. I don’t know if any of this will be helpful, but I want to offer you a few thoughts. You may already be doing some of these things or they may not be relevant to you, and so I hope that others share additional recommendations and advice in the comments as well.
As I was thinking about your question, one of the things that came to mind for me was the idea of existing in the present moment. I believe there are certain lines of Buddhist thinking that say, for instance, that hope is an illusion; we must live in the present, even when it feels unbearable. Honestly, I am of two minds on this. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve increasingly found value in existing more in the present rather than living for the future. Often times, when I was younger, I’d pin my hopes on some point in the future only to arrive in that future moment and find it didn’t live up to all the expectations I had placed on it, leading me to even greater despair and disappointment. At the same time, though, some of my hardest, bleakest times have been when I truly had no hope for the future at all.
Ultimately, I think it’s a matter of balance. Acknowledge the pain and uncertainty you feel in the present when you feel it. But also seek out joy in the small places you can, like video or phone conversations with your close friends and family or other means of communication and connection in ways that are safe. One of the things I’ve found to be really helpful is to create recurring video chats with at least some of my friends, because it gives me something regular to look forward to and reduces some of the burden of having to reach out cold and say, “Can we chat?” Also, read books or watch TV shows or movies that bring you a little bit of solace to break up the periods of hopelessness. It’s hard and this is certainly something I am continuing to work on, but I think we need to hold and make space for both the pain and the pleasure in our lives, now more than ever in the pandemic.
Personally, I don’t think healthy distractions (like games) are bad, as long as you don’t spend the entirety of your time suppressing your feelings in that way. For me, this has been a matter of ebb and flow. There have definitely been times in the pandemic when I was just burying my feelings with games constantly, and I’ve had to find ways of pulling that back, recognizing when playing games is crossing the line from comforting to numbing.
Another thing I’ve found helpful is to create projects for myself to work on that I’m genuinely excited about, like learning a challenging piece on violin or writing projects here. I’m not the best at prioritizing those over the games all the time, but having an activity that I enjoy, which isn’t completely mindless with some kind of “goal” helps me break the numbing patterns of endless games and TV sometimes, at least.
For me, alcohol is kind of similar to the games, though more extreme and with an even more substantial toll on the physical body. I’ve personally had to pull back on alcohol and limit my consumption to buying single serving drinks at the liquor store or drinking socially with people who I’m less likely to drink too much with. As before, I think it’s a matter of balance. I don’t think forcing ourselves to exist in our pain, anger and uncertainty all the time is particularly useful, but I also don’t think we’re served by running away from these emotions constantly.
When it comes to social media, honestly I basically stopped using it a few years ago because, similar to what you’re describing, I was finding myself increasingly disgusted and caught up in seeing fucked up posts from people I thought were at least somewhat decent or even some who I actively liked. That said, social media can be a great place for finding out about virtual events and making connections to feel a little less lonely. The way I’ve struck this balance most recently is I’ve essentially deactivated the accounts I had the longest and had the most connections on (in my case, Facebook) and created a new, extremely private Instagram account that I hardly post on and basically didn’t tell anyone except very, very close trusted friends about. I use that IG account to follow artists, groups and organizations I like and respect. That helps me also know about upcoming events I might be interested in and engage with content that I find entertaining without having infuriating political content randomly pop up into the mix. (Though I did have to block a few pro-Trump posts on Instagram a few times before I fully got anything political or news-related off my feed.)
My approach in terms of my news consumption is quite similar. Sometimes, I find that reading the news is another kind of addictive, numbing activity, much like games and social media, but one that takes an even greater toll on my mental health. There have been times where I catch myself spinning through one news site after another, reading endlessly and becoming more and more depressed with each article I click on. Again, I’ve had to recognize when that’s happening and cut myself off. There have definitely been times where I intentionally don’t engage with the news at all because I knew I was already in a bad headspace. Honestly, when it comes to local news I often live in a place of willful ignorance, only checking COVID rates insofar as it informs what I might feel safe doing. I don’t think it’s helpful (or realistic) to fully disconnect from the news all the time, but again it’s about being kind to yourself and recognizing when staying engaged with the news is doing you too much harm.
Balance is really the underlying theme in everything I’ve said. And given the stakes of the situation we’re in, balance often feels impossible. I’ll be very honest: at some point in the pandemic I had to reckon with the way I was taking care of my mental health. I was already in therapy before the pandemic started, but as things started to feel worse and worse (for me, the lowest point was really when things initially started reopening across the U.S. in the summer of 2021), I finally made the decision to take an antidepressant. Undeniably, I have probably struggled with some form of depression for most of my life and in the years leading up to the pandemic, I do believe I was finding non-medicated ways to take care of my mental health. But the pandemic did two things to me. First, it very, very strongly triggered a lot of the isolation and loneliness and lack of control that defined the entirety of my childhood, undoing work I had been doing to deal with that and second, that pushed my struggles with depression to a point that was untenable. It was only after starting medication that I was able to approach my life and what was happening in the day to day with the kind of balance I’ve been talking about. Before then, this type of approach was impossible for me to accept intellectually or emotionally and act on.
I don’t know what this means for you. As a starting point, if you aren’t in therapy, please do try to seek out services. If you haven’t already, share some of the things you’ve written about here with mental health professionals and talk to them about different forms of therapy you might benefit from, different types of treatment options or tweaking your current mental health care approach, as needed. As a dear friend said to me when I first confided that I had started medication, you should not have to suffer like this.
I know that none of this actually changes the reality of the pandemic or the reality of the situation we are in. I know that reading this, it might feel like all I’m doing is telling you more things you should do, when really the problem is all the anti-vaxxers and anti-maskers and conspiracy theorists and right-wing politicians who are literally just cashing in the deaths and suffering of the same people who have always paid the price for everyone else’s convenience. I really am so sorry for all of us for the situation we are in. Sometimes, what makes me the most angry and the most depressed is the knowledge that none of this really has to be this way. We (as a society, as a world) are doing this to ourselves and, worse, to each other.
And yet, somehow, we must find the strength to live, despite it all. One of the things I sometimes try to hold is the idea that while I cannot personally change or end the suffering of people in worse and more uncertain situations than mine — whether that’s people who are immunocompromised or disabled during this pandemic or people living in war torn areas or the people most affected by climate change — I must honor their lives. Part of honoring their lives, to me, is about bearing witness to their experiences, doing what small things I can (like voting and donating to trustworthy organizations) and, to the extent possible, making personal decisions that support them (for instance, being mindful about the kinds of activities I’m doing during this pandemic and where I shop). But the other part of honoring their lives is living mine. I cannot materially change other people’s realities, but losing myself and sacrificing my own life by being debilitated by depression from trying to hold it all is a disservice and, honestly, disrespectful to everyone.
Finally, more than anything else I’ve written, I want you to hold this: Even though the world is kind of terrible, your life is precious and valuable, and you are loved.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I am 33 (female, she/her) and dating 31 (female, she/her), it’s been about three months now. She has said she wants to go slow which is fine however I tend to move fast (last relationship moved in after four weeks) so this is an adjustment for me. She also isn’t a big texter and we can go days without having a proper conversation, which is compounded by the fact that she won’t discuss anything via text except for the weather or how work was. This is resulting in my feelings going up and down; when we see each other I feel connected and like I’m building feelings and then we have days or more of barely speaking and when we do it’s about the weather and my feelings go down. She is willing to compromise and do more phone calls in between dates but is holding firm at no texting about anything other than the weather. I acknowledge these are her boundaries and I probably need to learn a thing or two about going slow.
How do I keep my expectations in check? What does going slow mean for lesbians, when the stereotype of a U-Haul is pretty applicable to me most of the time? I like her, and I enjoy spending time with her, but it feels odd to me that my feelings aren’t on a steady incline and it’s weird to me to not talk for days on end. I don’t think I want to end it, and I don’t want to push her away by pushing this with her. We’ve had two conversations about our differing communication styles so far and I hope she can meet me half way but I definitely need advice on what “going slow” looks like. Thank you.
Okay first of all: is she a meteorologist? How much weather conversation is possible in any given day! Do you live in an area with a lot of natural disasters so the weather is like, a pertinent topic? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS ABOUT PRIORITIZING WEATHER TALK AS THE EXALTED SOLE TEXTING TOPIC!
That said, let’s move away from what I want to know for myself about your local climate and what you want to know for yourself!
“What does going slow mean for lesbians, when the stereotype of a U-Haul is pretty applicable to me most of the time?”
Unfortunately, and as is so often the case, there is no one answer to that question, and it’s totally different for different people depending on your circumstances! Especially co-habitation since that has a huge economic factor as well. (I think we often leave that out of the conversation, which is so weird! At least personally, financial circumstances were usually the #1 or #2 factor driving premature commitments in my past relationships.) Barring any external circumstances that make moving in together necessary, moving in together in under a year seems fast, as does getting engaged in under a year. Beyond that I think you’ll find a variety of opinions.
Other milestones I’d put into the “pace” category are things like the speed at which you start sleeping together, calling yourselves girlfriends/partners/etc, being each other’s plus ones for events, being public about your relationship, meeting each other’s friends, meeting each other’s family, spending holidays together, making it clear you are dating on social media, becoming exclusive if monogamy is your thing, etc. Those are all also things that are tough to put a timeline on, especially during a pandemic!
I’m also not sure if you guys are still casually dating or if this is a Relationship. It seems like it might be somewhere in the middle? If it’s a Relationship then I think she probably has a secret double life or else is simply not the right match for you and you should move on to more verdant pastures with lighter wind chill.
If you’re still just dating, then read on!
I think what we’re basically trying to do here, in terms of managing expectations, is enabling you to get comfortable judging the quality of your relationship not for your mutual willingness to prioritize emotional whims and romantic rapture over common sense but by the actual connection you feel to a person. New Relationship Energy can be a thrilling high, and making additional premature commitments can often provide a rush to sustain that high. But what’s underneath it? Do you have enough in common and do you enjoy each other’s company enough to last beyond that first flush? Relationship experts believe that in the early months of seeing someone, it’s healthiest to take a lot of physical space because spending all your time together up front can create a false sense of intimacy before you really get to know them — “It’s counterintuitive, but if you want to see [a new partner] more in the future, see them less now.”
As many long distance relationshippers can attest, when you aren’t together all the time, it makes the time you do spend together special, which seems like has been the case for you and this person.
Momentum can build within a relationship without spending a lot of time together or being up all night on the phone or hitting any of those milestones or making any of those commitments in the early months! It’s great that you are open to considering that a relationship can be healthy and can grow without falling into the “lesbian relationship cliches” that can often lead to unhealthy attachments, a relationship driven by circumstance rather than choice, or the idea that the only way to fall in love is to do so quickly, obsessively or self-destructively.
But… as for what’s happening here, specifically?
It’s difficult for me to answer this without knowing why her boundaries are what they are — there are legitimate reasons for not being able to text like “having a newborn baby” or “a demanding career as a forest guide in the deep recesses of middle earth,” but you haven’t indicated that’s the case here so I’m just gonna work under the assumption that she wants to go slow simply for the sake of going slow.
And in that case, my lord it cannot possibly feel good, let alone feel exciting or thrilling or romantic, to be abiding by this many restrictions three months in! At this point, it is not unreasonable to expect that you will communicate every day on topics unrelated to cloud cover.
Some form of daily communication is also a milestone, and it tends to hit pretty fast, in my experience, regardless of how ‘slow” the rest of the relationship goes — working the other person into your day-to-day life, from good morning texts to nightly phone calls. This is all part of the process of getting closer; they learn the dimensions of your world and vice versa and that opens up new avenues for connection and conversation.
Only communicating when you see each other for occasional in-person dates might make sense very early in the relationship, but emailing, texting or talking on the phone are also part of the dating process! I’m not sure how long you can have one without the other and still feel that things are moving along. I don’t think there’s necessarily a lot for her to lose here, either — talking to you every day or so isn’t signing a lease, if you break up then it wouldn’t take long for her to re-adjust to a life without those phone calls.
I don’t think texting frequently is necessary for a relationship to grow, because I am 40 and I spent most of my life in a world where doing so was either impossible or expensive. There’s something very cute and old-fashioned about not texting, actually! But in that imaginary cute scenario I am envisioning you having nightly phone calls or physical meet-ups where you catch up on everything you didn’t talk about during the day, and that you’ll also text when you have important or exciting news to share or something else pertinent on your mind, which it sounds like this person has forbidden?
It sounds like you are okay adjusting your speed and moving forward slowly, but is this moving forward at all? I’m worried that the dynamic in this relationship is already pretty skewed. You’re making adjustments to suit her requests and she’s not making any to yours and she’s seemingly insisting the adjustments only feel weird to you because you’re not adequately managing your expectations / have an unhealthy pattern of rushing in too quickly in the past. That specific paradigm — you wanting something reasonable from her, her telling you that it’s your own unrealistic lesbian cultural expectations or psychological baggage that is preventing you from understanding why her way is superior — is bad.
So. I want to talk about this psychological concept of “bids” in relationships. Bids are basically requests for attention. The example used in the Atlantic article I just linked is an avid bird-loving husband pointing out a goldfinch flying across the yard and saying “look at that beautiful bird outside!” The article notes: “He’s not just commenting on the bird here: he’s requesting a response from his wife — a sign of interest or support — hoping they’ll connect, however momentarily, over the bird.”
The wife can “turn towards” or “turn away.” She can show interest in the bid or support the bid, like by looking up at the bird or complimenting the bird. Or she can ignore that the bid was even made, or respond minimally, or, even worse, respond with hostility, like “don’t bother me with your birds you silly old man, I am making a spreadsheet!!!!” If a person refuses enough bids, contempt builds up, kindness vanishes, and the relationship will eventually fail.
That’s the paradigm I’d use to judge how well this relationship is working for you, or not: does she turn towards your bids or turn away? I’ve been in relationships where we lived together and plowed through every milestone with gusto and were in near-constant contact for the first few months and then fast forward to two years later when eventually my bids were denied so often that I started not only questioning their interest in me but whether or not I was interesting at all. And I know that I can trace relationships I personally fucked up to the myriad bids I began denying of theirs.
But! I’m also a person who likes a lot of space and independence, and it doesn’t sound like you are that type of person! Maybe you’d be a better fit with someone else who likes more communication and more intimacy and to be more intertwined. Regardless of pace, are you both heading towards the same destination? I think the worst case scenario here for you is that you will find your bids repeatedly refused, because it sounds to me like that is already happening a lot and it’s only been three months!
I’d hate for you to text your person mid-day to tell them that you were chosen to be a contestant on The Amazing Race or that the pain in your side turned out to be ovarian cysts and have you get silence or “heat wave talk only plz” in return. It sounds to me like you’ve already lost most of your bids, and while a new relationship doesn’t have to feel like you’re in your own personal rom-com, it should not feel like one of those crime docu-series that are 10 parts long even though they really only have enough interesting footage for two parts. You know what I mean?
In conclusion, I hope that you find someone — whether it’s this partner or somebody else — who casts their gaze immediately skyward every time you take note of the presence of a beautiful bird, and not just because she is flying through a notable snowstorm.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hey y’all,
Got a once small problem that is now a bigger problem and I’d love some advice. My girlfriend and I are currently doing long distance, and she plans to move up here next fall. She was planning a move to my city anyway, but our relationship has expedited that process. She lives with two college friends who I’ve never really liked as they are low key shitty to her. It looks like they’re all going through a friendship breakup, which is gutting and I’m being as supportive as I can from afar.
But. She kinda doesn’t have any other friends. She’s highly introverted, and although she has a few workmates she likes, she only socializes outside of work on occasion. I know it bugs her that she doesn’t have any close friends, especially with this new breakup she’s going to lose her last two friends at the same time.
Codependency is something we’re both wary of, and now with all this friend drama she’s worried that she’ll cling to me and drive me away. I think we can work through it, but I also want her to have friends! Friends are great! And I know that she wants friends!When/if she moves across the country to be in my city, I’m totally going to include her in my socials, but we both also need separate friends.
You’ve written some great articles about making adult friends from the other side, but what about when you want your partner to make friends? Is that a boundary I can’t cross? Gently suggest things? Offer to introduce her to people? I’m at such a loss, because I don’t want to disrespect her boundaries and come on too strong. I’m also wary that doing nothing could lead to her having no friends, and while I love my gf I’m not willing to backslide into codependency.
I want to take a moment to acknowledge that you both understand that you need individual support systems – that’s a huge deal! While it may feel like it’s nothing, naming what you don’t want (codependency) is usually the most helpful first step. It’s rad that you’ve already read through some of our advice on making friends, such as this piece on working through codependency. However, you’re right: being the girlfriend who wants their girlfriend to have friends definitely requires a gentle approach and some nuance.
It seems like your girlfriend knows she will need to make new relationships, and once things with her ex-friends settle down, she may even want to refocus her energy on forming new relationships. I’m sure things feel really chaotic for her right now, especially if these friends were her closest support system. Unfortunately, the older we get, the harder it is to make friends: not because either party does anything wrong, but at the end of the day, it really is exhausting to have more than a few close ride-or-dies. It sounds like this breakup is for the best and will free up a lot of emotional space once your girlfriend has had some time to heal.
However, I don’t think that waiting to approach her until she’s worked through everything on her own is the right answer. Communicating with your girlfriend about your worries isn’t crossing a boundary. Though, as I’m sure you know, you can’t make her do anything. I can see why you might be worried about seeming unsupportive or harsh, but it’s clear to me that you care because you want your relationship to remain healthy. I’m not a therapist, but I think talking this out with her is a great first step.
Before going into that conversation, I would make a mental (or literal) list of why you’re concerned and ways you could suggest these to her in a gentle, but clear way. Remember that how you communicate something isn’t always the way it’s perceived. Think about how she might hear what you’re saying. There’s no harm in expressing your emotions, but if your go-to feeling is frustration and hers is isolation, that could escalate quickly. You aren’t telling her that she’s shitty at making friends, you’re wanting to grow closer by preparing for the future.
No matter how you do it, the most important thing to emphasize is why you want to have this conversation. You don’t want to step on her toes or make her feel incapable of forming adult friendships. You just want to prepare for a big step in your relationship. This may sound super unromantic, but I think any major step in a relationship takes preparation and a plan. In order to set up the next phase of your relationship for success, you want to be able to have those conversations to ensure she has a healthy support system.
I certainly have firsthand experience as the girlfriend with no support system. I had just moved to the U.K. (from the U.S.) for grad school and quickly found myself in a relationship with–who I thought at the time was–the woman of my dreams. She was also there for grad school, but she is British-American and had a whole family and friend group established in our city. I knew absolutely no one, so she took it upon herself to introduce me to some of her Ph.D. cohort. I didn’t really vibe with them and she was really pushing me to get my own friends, so we tried a different approach. She heard about a QTPOC community group through the grapevine but she didn’t know anyone in the group. We decided it might be fun to show up to this new space as a couple so that it would be easier for us to make friends together, but separately. As an introvert, this helped me immensely! I felt comfortable enough to show up, but challenged enough to have at least one conversation outside of my comfort zone. A group like this may not be accessible to you, but I would suggest thinking through some of your shared interests and finding an event that way. If you’re both into D&D, search for open campaigns near you (Google, Meetup, Facebook, Lex, Autostraddle?!?)! If you’re into pottery, go to a regular class together! If you love basketball, search for pickup games in your area!
Like you mentioned, introducing her to some of your friends is definitely a good start, especially if your friends have other friends she could chat up. For example, my roommate has been getting close with his boyfriend’s best friend’s boyfriend (a mouthful, I know). This particular friend is not only super cool but has a queer roommate who said she was looking for more queer female friends. Through this friend group grapevine, the two of us met and connected over lots of gay stuff.
When I was the girlfriend in your situation, I found it helpful when my girlfriend would suggest that her friend’s friend (or whomever) and I had *insert specific hobby* in common. That way, I knew I could awkwardly approach this random person and say, “So you’re into candle-making too?” The mutual friend scenario is usually a great start, but I would avoid trying to make her friends with your close friends. Instead, widen the group a bit so she has the chance to make her own unique relationships with people.
Remember that your intentions are in the right place. The best thing you can do to support her is to be true to your own needs, use the resources you both have, and give her any of the tools I mentioned previously as a way to help her feel empowered to make new friendships. Ultimately, you should remember that it’s up to your girlfriend to do the work of making friends, not you. I would encourage you to find a way to cheer her on from the sidelines in a way that feels good for both of you.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I’m getting married to my incredible fiancé (they/them) in 2023. We’ve spent a lot of time with each other’s families and my family fucking loves my partner. My sister gave a little toast at our engagement brunch about how happy she is to welcome my partner into our family. Cute shit. My partner’s family is …reticent. They’re pretty religious and didn’t have the best reaction when my partner came out — years ago and before I was in the picture. Since our engagement, my partner’s family has invited me to Christmas, given me gifts, and included me in family photos. Then last night, their mom said she wasn’t sure she was going to come to our wedding, but was “leaning towards yes.” I’m super proud of how my fiancé reacted — enumerating the reasons that was painful to hear and outlining the very real consequences for their mom — especially with regards to our future kids and the family we’re building — if she chose not to attend.
And I’m sort of at a loss for to do next. My fiancé has gotten in touch with their mom’s sister, who is unquestionably supportive of us, and their brother (who came into the room and said “hi sisters!” to us on Christmas), but my fiancé is really hurting. What next steps can I recommend to them besides “let’s find you a therapist”? How can I support them in maintaining a relationship with their family, while also setting healthy boundaries? How much can I express how hurt I feel about this? What questions am I not asking?
Listen, I know no one wants to hear another boat metaphor, and especially not one about the Titanic, but, truly, I have no choice. Navigating the way someone else navigates their family — especially someone you love, especially someone you’re tethering yourself to for life — is like watching that glorious beast of a boat making a trans-Atlantic voyage, all life and music and dancing and the promise of a bright and wealthy future. Until: KABLAM! But the crashing and sinking isn’t the metaphor; it’s the fact that the iceberg looks so manageable way up here on top of the water, but it’s always that three-quarters of the iceberg is underwater. That’s what gets ya.
And that’s what gets everyone who has a complicated relationship with their family, which is practically every queer and trans person on earth. Up top it’s like, you know, icy. It’s a little cold maybe. But nothing turbulent. Below that, though, it’s attachment issues and abandonment issues and negative body image and an inability to trust or be intimate and how you manage money and how you express fear and desire and coping mechanisms and emotional regulation and self-esteem and the resourcefulness to dream and even the ability to fully relax. So I guess I’m tackling the last part first: What questions am I not asking? So many. So many that you don’t even know to ask, and wouldn’t know how to ask if you knew what they were. Half of your partner’s iceberg is underwater, and the fact that they were able to articulate the consequences of their mom saying they might not attend your wedding — and in real-time! — is one of the most impressive things I’ve ever heard.
That ability, the one you’re rightly proud of, is the thing I think you have to trust right now. If your partner can speak to their mom — someone who said right out loud that she was maybe going to make a decision that would hurt her child for the rest of their life — about their feelings, how much more can they share their truth with you? I’m guessing way more! You’re gonna be their spouse! They’re trusting you with their whole life! And so I think the best way you can support them is to ask how you can support them, and to go into that conversation without a preconceived idea of what you think they should do, how you think they should feel, and what you think the outcome should be of their decision. And I think it’s also important to let them know how fully you support their need to feel all the ways they need to feel about it, however those feelings might change from day-to-day, over the course of time, for — well, forever.
It sounds a little like you already have an idea of what they should do: Maintain a relationship with their family, and also have healthy boundaries. But I think you should maybe scrap the desire for that outcome — or any outcome — right now, as you allow your partner to work through all the stuff that’s on both sides of the water. If you try to push them toward what you think is best, you might push them away, and the last thing they need right now is to feel even more isolated. (Although it does sound like y’all have awesome support from other members of their family, which is wonderful!)
And that brings me to the trickiest part of your question. How do you express how hurt YOU feel about this? First of all, I think it’s really both wise and very mature that you are looking outside of your relationship for that answer. You seem to innately know that centering your own feelings here is not the move, but that it’s also not a good idea to bottle them up and ignore them. It is very fair and very valid that you’re hurt. Your relationship is being rejected, your partner is being rejected, you are being rejected. It is a cruelty I will never understand when people do this to their kids, and I am so sorry it happened to your partner and to you. And it also probably feels a little bit like gaslighting, right? Like the way their mom said it so casually, it seems like she’s trying to convince you it’s no big deal. But it is a big deal! It’s a huge deal! You both deserve so much better than this, so much more. And I hold out hope that your partner’s mom will swerve and make this right.
I think it would be a good idea for you to talk to a therapist! You mention one for your partner, but you’re really hurt here too, and it would not be a bad idea to work out all the whys of your pain with someone who isn’t also going through the pain, and in a more acute way because this is their parents. There’s maybe even a chance what’s under your water is informing some of your own feelings. If that’s a no-go, a trusted friend is a great option, someone who can really focus on your needs and feelings around this, in a way that your partner probably isn’t equipped to do right now. I’m not saying to hide this hurt from them, but I am saying that your hurt can’t add to their own pain right now ’cause that’s going to make navigating this situation even harder for them. It is just not as simple as feeling sad that their mom might not come to your wedding. It’s more than that in ways they probably don’t even fully realize yet. I have a friend whose mom refused to come to her gay wedding, and she ultimately realized her mom had caused her to internalize a huge amount of homophobia that was prohibiting her from following her career dreams AND keeping her from enjoying sex with her wife! Icebergs!
It’s obvious you love your fiancé very much, and want to protect them from any agony the world wants to hurl at them. Unfortunately, you mostly can’t, especially when it comes to their own family, but what you can do is be their safest place, where they can feel the fullness of their feelings without fear of judgment or repercussion, where they can work out what they want to actually do, and where they can be empowered to prioritize their own needs. And hopefully they are that for you too!
I hope your wedding is everything you want it to be and more.
Love,
Heather
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I’ve started dating this girl, and she’s actually very great. We’ve had frank discussions about needs and wants and dealbreakers, we have the same humour and she’s just as fun loving and spicy as I am while still being a functional adult. The plan is for me to meet her family at some point in the not-too-distant future. I’m excited, but here’s where it gets tricky:
We’re temporarily long-distance and I live next door to my parents. My mom was super abusive when I was a kid, to the point I moved out as soon as I turned sixteen. We’ve somewhat repaired this, and my parents have custody of my dogs, so you could describe our relationship as friendly but polite.
I introduced my ex to my folks because I was living with them at the time, and they loved her. Although my mom knows I’m now dating someone new, she’s asked no questions, which already isn’t a great sign. My ex was everything my folks like — polite, booksmart and agreeable. My new girlfriend is fantastic, but she’s not academic. I feel like my mom is going to hate that.
I want to introduce them because my mom can be nice and I have a fantastic relationship with my dad, but I don’t want my mom to say anything awful. And I absolutely will not tell my girlfriend that my mom may not like her because 1. That’ll hurt her feelings, 2. It could cause strain and 3. I like and value my girlfriend a hell of a lot more than my own mother.
I’m nervous because when my mom didn’t like my younger sister’s old boyfriend, she went so far as to orchestrate a breakup because he “wasn’t very bright” and didn’t “come from a good family,” and I am petrified.
Do I chat with my mom about boundaries? Do I only introduce my girlfriend to my dad? Do I not introduce her at all? Or am I overthinking it?
You’re not overthinking! Of course you’re being thoughtful about if, when and how you’ll introduce your girlfriend to your family — given your mom’s previous actions, there’s a chance she won’t grant you and your girlfriend the respect your relationship deserves. You’re trying to protect your girlfriend from your mom’s objections, and you’re probably trying to protect yourself, too. You write that you’ve “somewhat repaired” your relationship with your mom after years of abuse, but even if your mom’s attitude and conduct had totally changed, abuse of any kind can have a lasting impact on your nervous system — it’s hard for your brain and body to forgive and forget, even if you’ve managed to rebuild trust with the person who hurt you.
But it sounds like you still don’t totally trust your mom, and why would you? You write that while your mom “can be nice,” she also espouses elitist values and even interfered in your sister’s relationship when your sister’s boyfriend didn’t meet your mom’s standards. Unpredictable behavior is a recipe for disappointment, so it makes sense that you’re trying to get out ahead of this.
It sounds like your girlfriend is excited for you to meet her family, but I’m not sure how she feels about meeting yours. Is it something that she wants to do? If you don’t know, ask! Maybe meeting your parents isn’t important to girlfriend at all. If it is, then you’re going to have to practice setting boundaries with your girlfriend, with your mom, or both.
I don’t have all the details on this situation, so I can’t give you an exact blueprint for how to approach it. Instead, let’s go over your options and look at the pros and cons:
Option 1: You don’t introduce your girlfriend to your parents. Of course, since your parents live next door, there’s a chance your girlfriend would bump into them anyway when she’s visiting, so you’d have to be willing to take that risk. There’s also a chance that not introducing your girlfriend to your parents could hurt your parents’ feelings, but sometimes that happens when we set boundaries. If you ultimately decide that it would be best to keep your girlfriend and your parents in two separate worlds, that’s a valid choice, and it doesn’t mean that your relationship is any less important or meaningful. Our partners don’t have to be involved with our biological families. We don’t even have to be involved with our own biological families. Your girlfriend is dating you, not your parents, and if you give your girlfriend some background on your family dynamic, she’ll probably understand why she won’t be meeting your parents anytime soon.
Option 2: You only introduce your girlfriend to your dad. You write that you have a “fantastic” relationship with him, so it might feel good to let him in on this part of your life. You get the experience of introducing your girlfriend to your family without the messiness that your mom might bring to the table. If your dad is aware of the abuse your mom inflicted in the past and how she treated your sister’s boyfriend, he will probably understand why she can’t be involved. But unless your dad is willing to sneak around, you’re going to have to tell your mom about this arrangement, and she probably isn’t going to like it. Hopefully, your dad can also be part of that conversation and help you advocate for your needs.
Option 3: You introduce your girlfriend to your mom and dad after having a detailed conversation with your mom about acceptable vs. unacceptable behavior. And be specific! Unpredictable people need crystal clear boundaries (“Do not contact my girlfriend privately,” “Do not criticize my girlfriend’s background,” etc.) in order to be held accountable. Make sure your mom knows that if she violates those boundaries, she will not be interacting with your girlfriend (or you, if you’re in a position to go no-contact) any more. Make sure your dad and sister are aware of this conversation so they can help hold your mom accountable, too.
No matter which option you choose, I think you should be honest with your girlfriend about your past experiences with your mom. You don’t have to go into detail about the abuse from your past if that feels too painful, but if you want your girlfriend to be in your life long-term, it’s important to at least acknowledge that there’s been some strain there. We are not our parents, but childhood trauma can affect us long into adulthood. Talking to our partners how that trauma affects us leads to better communication (and fewer misunderstandings) in our romantic relationships. I know you’re worried about hurting your girlfriend’s feelings, but with the right framing, this conversation will probably bring you closer together. Telling your girlfriend, “My mom has been abusive and hyper-critical of others in the past, so I no longer value her opinions,” isn’t the same as saying, “You’re not good enough for my mom.”
Finally, I want to remind you that you don’t have to carry the impact of your mom’s past and present behavior alone. I hope you’re able to talk to your dad and sister about how they manage conflict with your mom, and if you don’t have a therapist who can help you set clear boundaries, I hope you’ll consider getting one. And remember that if your mom continues to cause turmoil and if you’re in a position where you can safely extricate yourself, you are not required to have your mom in your life. You can put your energy into the relationships that serve you instead.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
So I’m having a really hard time meeting anyone. I’m not even talking about the pandemic even though it has made me nervous to meet up with anyone or go anywhere, despite the fact I’m vaccinated, but I actually have never had a date in my entire life. I don’t even have luck talking with people. I keep going back to online dating sites and apps and just don’t have any luck. I’ve even considered joining a dating site to meet men and I’m a lesbian who has no interest in men but I’m so lonely and desperate for companionship it just seems like my only option.
Online I start talking to women and then I’m ghosted and I’m not sure why. I don’t think I reveal too much in my profile and I don’t overly share. At the same time I’m also not ready to share my past so I’m a closed book there, mainly because people have left me when they find out. I also don’t have any friends or anyone I can ask to review my profile. If I am boring, how does one become less boring? I’m just wondering what to do so that I’m not continually ghosted or feel like my only option is to date men?
Oh, babe. I’m so sorry you’re experiencing this. Before I get started on offering some concrete suggestions, I want to be very clear: There is nothing wrong with you, you do not have to date men if you’re not interested in dating men, and other people have felt like this before. You are not alone. Now, let’s talk about meeting people.
I’m not sure how old you are, but I did a quick informal survey of a few friends and here is an age range of when three different dykes went on their first dates: age 15, age 27, age 36. Which is to say — it’s very likely that many other people your age have also not been on a date yet. I don’t mean to belittle your feelings or to invalidate the idea that you are lonely, but I do wish to introduce the reasonable suggestion that this might not really be a “you problem” but rather a circumstantial situation that will shift over time. That said, there is one very specific thing you can do differently right now (based on the details you’ve shared in the question): you can look elsewhere to make connections. Your whole question revolves around the idea of finding companionship on the internet (not having luck on dating apps, considering a straight dating app, talking to women online, not having friends to review your profile, etc) — but you do not have to find companionship on a dating app!
I really understand feeling hesitant about doing things out in the real world because of the pandemic, but (in my opinion) at this point if you are vaccinated and able to wear a mask, there are options you can explore for spending time around people. You will have to do your own risk calculus and this may not apply if you are high risk or immunocompromised, but in general I think it would be useful to come up with a list of things that you think could be safe for you to do right now. For example I haven’t been eating indoors at restaurants because I still don’t want to take my mask off around strangers, but I do go to small gatherings inside my vaccinated friends’ homes and I do go to public events where I can keep my mask on. I have been teaching at a high school and my students and I are always fully masked around each other, and that feels safe too. It’s frustrating that the pandemic adds a layer of stress to the (already somewhat stressful) task of getting out there and meeting people in person, but I think it will be a really high reward rate to take on this challenge, and I encourage you to do so.
If you’re wondering what some IRL activities might look like that would encourage companionship, I’m thinking of recreational sports teams, reading groups at your local library, craft classes in a medium you enjoy, game nights at an arcade or local comic book shop, zine swaps or festivals, stitch and bitch knitting groups, group hiking or other outdoor activities… I’m not sure what your specific interests are, but I’d make a list of those too (along with your list of activities and actions that feel worth the risk for you right now re: going a little bit outside your pandemic comfort zone in a safe and measured way) and then pick some corresponding activities that sound exciting or fun to you. The thing is, I wouldn’t plan to go to these activities with the intention of Finding A Date!!! I would just go because they will naturally introduce you to new people, they will help you feel less lonely, and they will enrich your life.
Which gets us to the part of your question that I really wanted to spend a minute on, because it made me sad to think of you blaming yourself for your loneliness. You say, “If I am boring, how does one become less boring?” This tells me you think there is something wrong with you, and that your state of loneliness and lack of companionship is a punishment for something you are doing wrong. That is likely not true. One of my best friends once told me, “Loneliness is the human condition,” and unfortunately I think she’s right. So many of us are lonely. So many of us struggle to connect. I do not think it is because you are more reserved with new people, and I do not think it’s because you are boring. But — let’s just say, for the sake of this thought — you were boring? Well, one becomes less boring by investing deeply in oneself. It is oft-repeated advice but it is oft-repeated for a reason: if you are lonely, you have to find a way to make your life less lonely with or without romantic partnership. I am not saying this will fill the void you are hoping to fill with love and romance and sex and dates and flirtations (although it might, and although it is possible to do those things with friends, depending on how you wish to live). But I am saying that pouring time and energy into yourself and making your life as full as possible whether or not you connect with someone on a dating app is the only way you have control of how you’re currently feeling.
The answer to loneliness is not necessarily found on dating apps, and it’s definitely not found in trying to date a person or a whole group of people who you are not interested in. In fact, dating someone you’d rather not be dating is the quickest way to feel deeply lonely and alone even when you’re sharing a bed with another person. No, the only answer here is to find a way to actively bring more people into your life that you may connect with on a platonic or a romantic level, and see how your inner loneliness compass shifts from there. You can’t control people ghosting you (sadly a pretty common dating experience) but you can control what you do with your day to day life. So make some lists and see what happens when you put yourself out there. I’m rooting for you!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
My partner and I have been together for about 2 years and we live together. Our relationship has grown stronger throughout this past year, even with everything going on in the world, and I feel our relationship progressing. I love her so much.
We’ve talked about getting married sometime in the next few years and have talked about getting engaged sometime later this year. However, when we’ve had conversations about what we want our marriage to look like, my partner says she doesn’t know if she wants kids or not. I’ve offered to give her time to figure that out and have encouraged her to explore that. She says she knows she doesn’t want them anytime in the next five years or so, but can’t know how she’ll feel beyond that. She says she doesn’t want to carry a child or raise a young child, but might want to adopt an older child at some point down the line. She also says she doesn’t think she needs more time to figure this out, and that she doesn’t think she’ll become much more certain on this for quite a while.
I feel very sure that I don’t want children. I know I don’t want them anytime soon, and I don’t know that I will ever change my mind on that. I know for sure that I never want to physically carry a child. I feel afraid of raising kids for a number of reasons related to my history with my own parents. Financially, I would like to live a certain lifestyle (lots of travel, going out to eat, being able to afford nice stuff, etc.) that I think would be more difficult to achieve if I had children.
I currently feel like I would want my partner to know whether or not she wants kids before I’d be comfortable getting married. Is it possible to ever really know how you’ll feel far into the future? I’m afraid of her deciding she does definitely want kids and then hoping I’ll change my mind, and then when I don’t, she’ll come to resent me and we’ll have to break up. Please help. Does this mean we shouldn’t get married anytime soon? I would appreciate any suggestions on how to have these conversations, and any advice on what things are necessary to be 100% percent on the same page on before you marry someone. Thank you!
The very short answer to this question is easy: there is no way to guess the future and your current self cannot make promises for your future self. No one can say for certain if a choice you make today or tomorrow or a year from now will remain the right choice for forever. Arguably there is no such thing as the right choice and the wrong choice, there is simply the choice we make with the information we have available to us when we make it, and we do the best we can with what we have. If you don’t think you have enough information to know if you want to marry your partner or not yet, you simply do not have to get married yet. Problem solved!
But you bring up a lot of worries in your question, and also a lot of valid questions that I think we all ask ourselves when trying to build a life or even just spend some ongoing meaningful time with another human, so let’s dive into the slightly longer and less clear cut answers to those thoughts.
I think it’s very cool that you are thinking about major compatibility points when you think about planning for the future with your current partner. As we all know, no matter how much we love a person, simply being in love is not enough when it comes to legal and logistical choices like marriage, creating a family unit, and ultimately building a life together, whatever that may look like for you and your partner specifically (and if that’s something you’re both invested in doing). I think it’s great to make sure you don’t have major incompatibilities before considering marriage, and I think good communication in general is the key to sustaining a partnership that feels good for both people and doesn’t lead to resentment or anxiety on either side.
That said — there’s a difference between communicating about where you’re at and where you hope to be in the future and trying to control every aspect of your present and future life so that it all goes exactly according to plan. The first — communication! — is a vital and necessary tool in a healthy relationship. The second — control — is frankly impossible, and at best will lead to frustration and at worst may lead to the end of a perfectly lovely partnership.
I don’t know you and your partner, so I may be missing out on some nuances, but everything you’ve written in this letter actually tells me the two of you are pretty much on the same page when it comes to thoughts about raising kids right now. You do not want to have children, period. Your partner does not want kids for the next five years, does not want to carry a child, and may want to adopt an older child. She’s also indicated she doesn’t need more time to interrogate this and that how she feels about that is pretty much how she’s going to feel for a good long while: not entirely certain, but sure enough for the next five year period. So… you actually have your answer. Right now, your partner does not want kids. In five+ years she may or may not decide she wants to adopt. Right now, you do not want kids. In five+ years you will still not want kids. (We’ll come back to this in just a moment.) But if what you want is an ironclad 110% answer that your partner will never ever in a million years want to raise a child, you’re not going to get it, because she’s already communicated to you how she feels. She does not need more time to consider and explore; she actually sounds pretty certain, and it’s your job to respect that and make your decisions accordingly.
But let’s get back to that parenthetical — because you asked a good question in your submission, one that I think lies at the heart of your concerns: Is it possible to ever really know how you’ll feel far into the future? And the answer to that, tragically, is absolutely not. Is it likely to know how you’ll feel about pretty major choices? Sure. I am by no means suggesting that you should or will change your mind and suddenly realize you actually do want kids, and I am equally not suggesting that your partner will definitely change her mind and realize she absolutely never wants kids. I’m just saying… one or both of you could always change your mind. About anything! About everything! We all become different people over time. Growth means change and honestly, that’s beautiful. Our present day selves cannot make promises for our future selves. It is not possible to know beyond a shadow of a doubt how you’ll feel about something far into the future. That is both the magic and the hideous reality of being alive.
So what do you do? You make a decision with the information you currently have. I cannot make it for you. If I had more information I might tell you what I personally would do — for example if you’re in your early twenties I am biased against marrying that young and would tell you to wait a few years regardless of this particularly conversation because why not? — but I still wouldn’t be able to make the “right” choice for you because ultimately life is not a standardized test. You’re being very responsible by having big conversations about big choices (kids, marriage) but these are not conversations with a finite end point. Nothing you decide today will guarantee that you and your partner will always be on the exact same page, and nothing you choose to do will insure that your partner will never change her mind, or you will never change yours, or one or both of you will never grow to resent the other. That’s just part of it, the whole thing of building a life with someone. You keep growing. You keep changing. With any luck, your growth and change happen in ways that accommodate and support the other. You keep communicating, you keep having the conversations, you create an environment that breeds honesty and generosity and security and you hope those skills help keep the resentment at bay. And sometimes, in spite of your best efforts, you still change in ways that make you no longer compatible, if you ever were, and then you part ways. If you’re legally married that requires divorce papers; if you’re not it will still be an intense emotional split. But that’s just how it goes.
You asked for advice about how to have these conversations, and my answer is honestly and regularly. If you have trouble navigating the specifics or find yourselves getting trapped in a feedback loop or a negative cycle, it can be really helpful to attend a few couples counseling sessions just so have a neutral trained third party guide you and teach you new communication skills. I am a huge advocate of couples therapy for all relationships and I don’t think it’s ever a bad idea to learn better and more sustainable ways to be in partnership with another human. You also asked for advice on things that you must be 100% on the same page on before getting married, and for that I’d say you’re already on the right track, I would just approach it with broader strokes. Do you value the same things? Do you want the same kind of life? Is having kids a real true dealbreaker for you? If yes, okay — but if your current partner cannot promise she will never want a child, does not need more time to think about it, and is being honest that in five+ years down the line she may in fact say, “Hey, I do want a kid after all!” is it the sensible choice to end things now or could you stay together for a few more years and see how she feels when that comes up? What does she think about that? Does she have certain dealbreakers that you haven’t even considered because you’ve gotten so wrapped up in the potential child in your potential future? Is marriage even the ultimate thing you both want when you think about your continued time together on this earth?
I encourage you to parse out your dealbreakers together and speak with honesty and clarity as opposed to fear of current or future resentment. Together you will come to a clearer picture of what the present day version of you and your partner see for your individual and collective futures.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I need HELP with overcoming/owning a bit of an awkward Tinder situation.
Basically the backstory is I matched with this girl on tinder roughly 4 years ago, we started chatting, and it was going well until she abruptly stopped replying. I let it go as a “she’s probably just not interested.” Fast forward a year or two, we match again, hit it off well again with a brief chat, but then she pretty quickly stopped replying again… Never mind, I moved on and was sort of talking to someone else. Now fast forward another couple of years, and we’ve matched on tinder AGAIN. At this point I’m just confused as to why she keeps matching with me if she doesn’t want to continue conversation. But the awkward part of this all is that we’ve actually also been Facebook friends for 12+ years! I think we drunkenly met at a queer bar and added each other, and we’ve never communicated via Facebook or at all since but we have occasionally throughout the years liked a post of each others here and there. I feel like I know her really well because I’ve basically seen the last 12 years of her life through Facebook. I’ve always found her super attractive and we have a lot of common interests based on our FB posts, but because she keeps ghosting me on Tinder I’ve never really pursued anything. Now that we’ve matched on Tinder a third time, I want to reach out to her somehow but in a way that might woo her a bit more than our regular Tinder chat that hasn’t seemed to keep her interest in the past. Her Tinder is pretty explicit that she’s looking for a partner rather than anything more casual. Seeking ideas and advice on how to really own this and not make it more awkward than it already is!
This situation is indeed kind of awkward, and the fact that the two of you have basically been circling each other for over a decade sounds like something out of a romantic comedy. But unfortunately, this is real life, and I think you have to let go of this person for good. Her recurring appearance in your life is strange, but it’s not necessarily meaningful. Exploring more meaningful connections and relationships will make your romantic life much more satisfying!
If she were interested in dating you, there have been so many opportunities for her to follow through on pursuing that. Online dating isn’t new anymore, and yet it’s still hard to lock down what certain things mean when it comes to people’s behaviors on apps. Basically, everyone uses apps differently! It’s possible this person just swipes pretty casually. A match in and of itself does not mean a commitment to anything more. Recurring matching seems like it should mean something, but it might not at all. I want you to have a happy, fulfilling dating life, and I think you might be getting in your own way by focusing so much on this person. Even though she states she’s looking for a partner on Tinder, that also doesn’t really change the situation here. All the matching and then disappearing is hard to read, but she has a right to use Tinder however she wants. And I honestly don’t think it’s worth the effort to analyze and interpret the intentions of a stranger who has interacted with you somewhat inconsistently.
I know some people might disagree with me, but I don’t really think it’s “ghosting” if you haven’t met up/taken the connection beyond the app. You said yourself that the conversation ended pretty quickly in both instances. There are a million possible reasons she stopped replying. Some people are on multiple apps or also meeting people IRL. Some people just ebb and flow in the time and energy they give to Tinder. Sometimes, people’s capacity for online dating/chatting just changes. Ultimately, she doesn’t owe you an explanation. And ultimately, it’s a futile mission to try to read her mind. In fact, I’m avoiding any definitive statements about what her behavior means, because I think it could be any number of things, but more importantly, I think it doesn’t even really matter when it comes to you and your life. I really, truly think you’re better off letting go of her. Her pattern likely has to do with her own stuff and nothing to do with you.
You say you want help overcoming/owning an awkward situation, but there’s nothing really to own here. No one has done anything wrong. As for the overcoming part, you shouldn’t consider this situation a rejection. I think you should shift away from thinking your past conversations haven’t effectively wooed her into thinking this is just not the right person for you. You shouldn’t have to fight to keep someone’s interest ever in a relationship, but especially at the beginning.
I get she doesn’t feel like a stranger. You’ve talked. You’ve seen her life unfold on Facebook. I think those details coupled with her recurring appearance on the app have maybe intensified the way you feel toward her. This happens a lot! It’s easy to project onto people we barely know and romanticize our connection with them. It’s easy to fantasize about the potential of someone and the potential of a relationship. But this person isn’t the one that got away. Again, that concept is just rom-com fantasy. Social media and dating apps don’t paint a full picture of a person, and at the end of the day, what do you really know about her after a couple brief chats? I understand you want a chance to get to know her better, but if she wanted the same, it likely would have happened already. I think you should focus your energy on talking to people who want to talk to you. There are other people out there who will be thrilled to keep the conversation going.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hi, my ex and I were together for close to 3 years. She broke up with me just over a month ago via text. Didn’t want to talk much and was eager to cut me short when we met up for the last time before the breakup. She got a new job just that week and suddenly decided that she wanted to focus on her career. It was just snap a decision made quickly without considering me. That career thing was probably just an excuse to get rid of me. She was cold and distant and seemed almost like a completely different person. Nothing I said could get through to her. I had no choice but to accept her decision, but it really hurts, as I feel blind-sided and it’s hard to come to terms with what happened. What do you think? Is this really over?
I want to start by saying that I’m really, really so sorry this happened to you. Whatever else your ex has going on in her life, whatever her reasons or motivations might be, the way she treated you is really not ok. Being who I am now, I would never end a three-year friendship so coldly, let alone a relationship (unless there was abuse involved, but that’s a whole other situation, so let’s set it aside for the moment). At the very least, she should have been willing to talk about where this decision came from for her. And I don’t say that because I think it would give you some kind of closure (it wouldn’t) but because it’s just basic decency.
Unfortunately, your relationship really is over. Your ex pulled the plug, albeit in an incredibly unexpected and unkind way, but it’s over, nonetheless.
I can only speculate at your feelings, but I’m guessing that part of your pain may come from two places: first, an undermining of your reality and second, a lack of control over the situation. Based on what you described, this break up came out of nowhere, and your ex controlled it entirely – including your ignorance of the fact that she was ready to move on. When I was faced with a somewhat similar situation, I realized, after several months, that part of how I was feeling was tied not to the fact that we broke up but rather how my ex broke up with me. My breakup was different from yours in a lot of ways, and the details aren’t particularly relevant to get into right now, but the commonality is this: one day we were together, and then the next I very unexpectedly found out that my ex and I had extremely different understandings of what our relationship was and what the future might hold for us.
It’s really deeply unsettling when something like this happens, and it can undermine your own sense of judgement and your own understanding of your experiences. A close friend of mine who went through a similar breakup reflected on how the suddenness of it made her question whether what she and her ex had was even real? Had she just been making up the sense of closeness she and her ex had for the years they were together?
The incredibly important conclusion she came to was that what she and her ex had was real. She actively affirmed her own reality, and I know this isn’t the question you’re asking, but I very, very strongly encourage you to do the same. Perhaps I am projecting, but I wonder if buried in your question, “Is this really over?” is a desire for confirmation that you truly had a shared experience of intimacy with your ex. You did. No matter what your ex’s current situation, she can’t erase that she was an active participant in your relationship.
But the fact of the matter remains that your relationship is over: Your ex ended it. I wonder if part of your grasping onto this relationship stems, not only from the fact that you clearly cared about her and about your relationship, but also from wanting to reclaim the agency that was taken away from you because of how your ex broke up with you. Again, I may just be projecting, but in my own experience, part of what was so deeply upsetting was the fact that I had been left in the dark for so long. All I had wanted was a little bit of honesty, to know what I was in and what I was getting into, rather than to have that ending thrown at me so unexpectedly.
It took me a long time to arrive at this, but eventually I had to ask myself: “Much as I might still love my ex, do I really want to be with someone who treated me this way?” The answer, quite simply, was no. I knew I deserved better, and I don’t know you, but I really believe that you deserve much, much better than your ex.
This isn’t to say that people can’t recognize their mistakes and make amend. There are certainly times where I have very, very deeply hurt people I really love, and they have welcomed me back into their lives, nonetheless. But I had to earn that. I had to reflect on my behavior and have an honest (and very uncomfortable) conversation with the people I hurt, and there was never a guarantee that they would or should have trusted me in the same way again: I apologized because I knew it was the right thing to do.
Your ex hasn’t earned that. Her coldness and her unwillingness to even talk to you, the fact that she broke up with you over text — she has a long way to go in her journey on communicating better and treating people with kindness and respect. That isn’t to say she won’t get there, but that is the journey of her life and not yours: your paths have parted.
I really do understand how hard it is to believe in this new reality that’s been so casually thrust upon you. And I am really, really sorry. I wouldn’t wish a breakup like that on anyone. Center yourself: center your feelings in all their conflicts and complexity, center your experiences, your reality, your agency. Learn what you can from this by reflecting on how you want to be treated by a partner and how you would like to treat others and carry yourself moving forward. In the end, I know and believe that you’ll get through this.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I’ve never had anyone ask about my dating life, until recently. Over the past couple years, I’ve heard from family and coworkers, “Are you talking to a special guy?”, “When do you think you’ll get married?” and my dad who desperately wants me to meet a good man. I’m a closeted lesbian who has never been in a relationship. I don’t feel like it is anyone’s business about my personal life, but lately it seems people are very interested. I don’t know if it’s because I’ll be 40 in a few years or if they suspect I’m a lesbian or something else. I don’t feel comfortable or safe coming out to my family or at work. When I’m asked, I either just nod to please them or say, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get married” or “No, I’m not talking to any men” — the last two are directed to coworkers. Honestly, I’m tired, and I just don’t know what to do anymore. Do you have any advice for me, or should I just keep doing what I’m already doing?
I’m really sorry you’re in this situation. You’re absolutely right: your personal life is nobody’s business, least of all your coworkers. I’m also sorry that you’re in a work and family situation where you aren’t safe coming out. I am not of the belief that “everyone should come out in order to live their best / truest lives,” but I do want to acknowledge how incredibly difficult it is to have so many areas in your life where coming out simply isn’t an option. By and large, my advice to you is to keep doing what you’re doing. Mostly, I’m here to offer you commiseration and encouragement, and perhaps a few additional suggestions that may or may not be useful depending on the specifics of your situation.
When it comes to navigating at work, this is one of the things I absolutely hate that has been ubiquitous across pretty much every job I’ve held. Except in the rare occasions where I am actually friends with my coworkers, it really feels like the default office small talk is centered around relationships, engagements, weddings, birth announcements — basically every heteronormative milestone you can think of. This used to drive me up the wall before the pandemic, when casual conversation with coworkers was a part of my day-to-day. It’s just such a narrow way to think about the trajectory of people’s lives and can be incredibly isolating and exclusionary. It also reduces everyone, including heterosexual couples and parents, down to their relationships and their children, as if there is nothing else to their lives. I just don’t see how this benefits anyone.
Honestly, what’s served me best at work is deflecting. There are so many parts of my life that I just don’t want to discuss with strangers that I make a point of leading conversations as much as I can. I know that some people find this off putting or rude, but, for the most part, when I am work, I talk work. If I’m in a meeting, I’m going to jump right into business and cut off as much chit chat about personal lives as I can get away with by saying things like, “I want to be mindful of people’s time, so I’m going to go ahead and get started,” or “I have a hard stop at [whenever the meeting ends] so if you don’t mind, why don’t we get started?”
For the coworkers I am actually on friendly terms with or if I’m in a one-on-one conversation where it’s a little harder to play the “respecting everyone’s schedule” card, I ask people about their weekends, their vacations, their kids, their pets, pretty much anything to keep them busy talking about their lives and spending less time pestering me about mine. Many people are more than happy to oblige, without even knowing it. And then, after we’ve talked about them for a while, I plead to the need to get back to work.
Obviously, these two approaches will only go so far. If coworkers are directly and pointedly asking you about your wedding trajectory or the men in your life, I think your current approach is a solid one. Keep reiterating the point that marriage and men are not for you, as you have been doing, and then pivot to asking the person about themselves. With enough repetition, I hope anyone with a shred of decency will take the hint. If someone really won’t let the topic go or insists on bringing it up, I think you can say politely but firmly, “You know, I’m just not really interested, and I don’t really want to talk about it.” And then end the conversation and walk away.
Family is a different beast when it comes to probing questions about marriage and partners, and my relationship with most of my family is fairly spare in the first place — so my suggestions on that front are, unfortunately, more limited and may not be applicable to you. At its core, my advice is basically the same: politely and firmly emphasize that you don’t want to talk about this. An effective way I’ve found for keeping this conversation to a minimum has been to make it clear that if all they want to talk to me about is men and marriage, then I simply won’t speak to them, plain and simple. (I have to admit, here, that this was largely accomplished with the support and efforts of my sisters, to whom I am out and with whom I’m very close.)
I understand that if you are actually close with your parents or other relatives, you probably won’t want to (essentially) threaten to cut them off. So another approach is to tell them explicitly about all the ways in which you’re happy with your life as it is and that you’re happy not being tethered down by a relationship and marriage. Give concrete examples of things that you like doing by yourself, that you can’t imagine doing with a partner in tow (regardless of the gender of the partner).
I want to say that when parents or relatives or even coworkers pry about relationships and marriage, they are doing it from the place of, “I just want you to be happy.” Or at a minimum, that’s the excuse they’ll give if pressed about why they’re bothering you about something that really and truly is none of their business. So cut to the chase and highlight the extent of your happiness not being in a relationship. But I will also add, that for me personally this approach is nearly impossible because I’m a terrible liar and I’m not exactly thrilled about the fact that I am and pretty much always have been single. This line of probing, especially when it’s coming from exactly the people who I cannot have an honest conversation with, really particularly feels like salt on an open wound.
Aloofness has become my friend. I’m not a particularly quiet person by nature, but I’ve learned, over time, that in work and family settings, I’d rather keep to myself than answer uncomfortable questions that I really don’t have an answer for. I mean honestly, even setting the sexuality aspect of this aside for a moment, what does someone expect a single person to say about why they aren’t married yet? I firmly believe that a not insignificant part of being in a relationship is about luck. There’s a substantial amount of serendipity that has to happen in order to meet someone you connect with in that way.
And what, exactly, is achieved by trying to wrestle from someone that they’re maybe not heterosexual? I’ve definitely been on the other side of this one before, as well, and it is just so frustrating. Even if someone means well, they don’t know what they might be stepping into — like my former boss who once implied I might adopt children, back when I myself hadn’t come to terms with my sexuality. Thanks, dude, really appreciate you outing me to myself before I even arrived on that on my own.
I really am sorry you’re faced with this and increasingly being bombarded with these questions. I hope you find some solace in knowing that you’re not alone and that your approach so far largely mirrors my own. I’d also love to hear from others in the comments with their suggestions or advice for this.
People can be such nosy gossips sometimes. I hope, for your sake, that with enough persistence on your part, some of these people at least will realize this isn’t their business and find something else to talk to you about.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Editor’s Note: The following includes mentions of suicidal thoughts.
I’m 14, afab, and a nonbinary asexual lesbian, and she’s 16, a cis lesbian. I’m going to call her T. She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I get butterflies when I think of her.
We’ve been friends for a little over 2 years. We bonded over gay fanfiction before either of us were out of the closet. We’ve come out to each other as lesbian and bisexual many times as we’ve each struggled with our identity. I came out to her as nonbinary, and then as asexual. She’s incredibly accepting and kind and amazing. I’ve never wanted to date anyone before I met her (but that’s probably because I’m a teenager). I really, really like her. I figured out I had a crush on her about a month after we became friends. A few months later, we confessed our feelings to each other, but she said she wasn’t ready to date. At the time, I was really sad, but in hindsight, at 12 years old, suicidal, and completely in the closet about gender, I was definitely not ready to date anyone. (As of now, I’m out as nonbinary to pretty much everyone I know, including her. She’s the first person I told about my gender, actually.) We’ve since had conversations about this, and she’s told me that the reason she didn’t want to date me was because I was suicidal, not nonbinary.
Since then, I’ve been in therapy, I’m a year clean of self harm, and I know with absolute certainty I’m not going to kill myself. We discuss our mental health all the time (we both have OCD and anxiety), and she knows all of this. She doesn’t worry about me anymore. Recently, a friend was joking that T and I were dating, and she got upset. She then told me that I was the first person she liked, and that she “really, really liked” me.
Aside from all that history, the friend I’ve told about all this thinks that T likes me back. T and I are really good friends, and we text each other at least 20 times a day. We see each other once every couple of weeks when we go out for ice cream, and we sit and talk for hours. We say “I love you” all the time. She calls me pet names (honey, darling, sweetie, angel, etc) very often, even in serious conversations. We’ll be having a 100% serious conversation about gender or mental health or identity and she’ll call me “love”. She also teases me in a way that makes me think she might at least suspect that I like her; she’ll say “do I fluster you, angel?” Or demonstrate at me how to flirt with your eyes (for, like, a whole two freaking minutes) and then tell me she was just doing it because “you’re adorable when you blush”. But how am I to know wether she’s just joking around? I hate that the line between platonic and romantic is so hard to place when neither one of you is a guy. She calls me pet names even in front of people; she’ll shout “angel” to get my attention at marching band.
As for the reasons I think she doesn’t like me back. First of all, she’s wayyyyy out of my league. A really popular boy asked her out last year. She’s pretty and smart and talented and she could probably have any teenage lesbian in the city if she wanted. She’s a whole grade older than me. Also, she’s told me she has a thing for blondes, and I’m most definitely not blonde. I’m Mexican-American (she’s white) and my hair is really dark. Also, she’s allosexual while I’m ace. I don’t think that would be a problem in the near future, I mean, I’m 14, but it’s still a thing that exists and might factor into her decision. Also, I know what celebrities she has crushes on, and most of them are skinny, white, and relatively feminine. I’m not any of those things. I’m chubby and latina and nervous to wear a skirt in public. Also, I’ve recently changed my name to a boy’s name (I know names don’t have gender but like you get what I mean) and I’m worried she’ll see me as too masculine. I have short hair and I don’t wear a lot of fem clothes (though I’d like to). I don’t plan to ever have surgeries or go on HRT (though that could change, I’m still trying to figure out how I feel about my body in relation to gender), and for the time being at least I have a female, feminine body so I don’t think that’s an issue, it’s just the name thing.
I’m thinking of telling her how I feel soon. I’ve never confessed to a girl before, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I love her and being her friend is my Number One priority, not some possibly unrequited crush. I’m not too worried about losing her entirely, we’re way too close for that, but I’m scared I’ll make everything awkward and tense for the next few months.
Hello friend,
You said that you’re going to tell her how you feel soon, which means this advice is not going to be that relevant to you since I’m responding over a month later. I apologize. But maybe you decided to put it off for a while? Or maybe this could help other people in a similar situation.
You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you: you’re very young. You’re experiencing your first crush, maybe even your first love. It feels like the entire world revolves around this person, this experience, this feeling. All of that is super age-appropriate and normal, but the truth is that feelings are fleeting and this relationship doesn’t have to be something you pin all of your hopes and dreams on. If she isn’t interested in you it’s totally fine because she seems like a great friend, and that’s so valuable. It might be awkward for a little while but it’ll eventually blow over and be fine if you’re able to be mature about it.
Note to anyone reading who isn’t 14 and yet highkey relates to the advice-asker: it’s OK! Even if you’re older, sometimes crushes make you feel like you’re 14. But hopefully you also can be mature about it.
Now, what does being “mature about it” mean? Doing what you’re already planning on doing: asking her how she feels about you or if she’d be interested in dating. Girls especially, but all of us to a degree, are taught to create elaborate hypotheticals in our minds and to attempt to read other people’s gestures and words in order to try to figure out what they mean. But the easiest and best way to find out what someone meant by something is just to ask them what they meant by that something. And that’s what you have to do in this situation.
You can’t find out if she wants to date you from her friends, from her behavior, from how frequently you talk, or in any other way than by her telling you whether she wants to date you (I’d recommend specifically asking if she wants to date you, not if she likes you — “Liking” someone can have so many different meanings). If she says yes, then you can figure out what dating means. Does it mean kissing? Does it mean not really changing anything about how you interact, but now knowing that it’s romantic? Does it maybe eventually include sex? (By the way, a lot of people start having sex around your age. It is obviously not necessary for a loving, fulfilling romantic relationship at any age, especially if you’re ace, but it’s also not out of the picture for some people and you can discuss it.) You can only find out through conversation.
The advice is pretty simple, but there’s also a few other things that I wanted to address in your letter.
Whether someone liked you before (or “like, liked” you) is not a promise or a guarantee or necessarily how they feel now or whether they want to date you now. And that’s OK! Feelings can change. Also, using pet names and saying that you love someone also doesn’t necessarily mean that they want to date you. The line between friendship and romantic relationships is very thin, especially for queer people. I love all of my friends deeply, and tell them a lot, and gas them up and tell them how hot they are and call some of them “boo” or “sweetheart,” but I don’t want to date them. We’ve established this, though — if we were both single and were doing that, I’d want us to have a conversation about it! I’m all for more conversations, even if they’re awkward. More clarity and communication is always a net positive in the end.
Note that the reverse is also true! Almost none of the reasons you gave for why you doubt that she likes you matter. Those are just your insecurities talking. For example: the only celebrities I have crushes on are Terry Crews/The Rock types. I have never (and will likely never) actually date anyone like that. You can only find out if she likes you by having her tell you.
That being said, if she was into you when you identified as a girl, but no longer once you identified as non-binary, that would be sad and frustrating but also OK. Some people are “strict” in their sexuality, and it’s not worth trying to convince people into women only to also be into people who aren’t women. It’s not always about bodies, or if they’re “feminine,” or if they have certain body parts, or their names. Sexual attraction is weird and nuanced. It would also be OK if she only wants to date someone she can have sex with. If you don’t want that, but she does, you should not try to force it. Again, this is sad, but it’s OK.
However: you have used a lot of identity labels in this short letter and have described how you see her and yourself in pretty certain terms — but you’ve also recognized that who you are has changed a lot, even just in the past couple years. Please give yourself (and her!) the time and space to change and grow and transform and figure out who you are and what you want in life and in relationships. I don’t think anyone should ever decide 100% with complete security who they are and never allow themselves to change — but definitely not before your brain is even finished developing (this happens around age 25 or so, by the way). It’s OK to change your identities as different situations present themselves. Give yourself the space to keep developing as a person.
All of this is weird and complex and strange and influenced by weird gender ideas that all of us have been socialized into, but sexuality is weird and there’s no really pinning it down.
But here’s the bottom line: whether she wants to date or is attracted to you romantically has absolutely nothing to do with your value, your attractiveness, your dateability, your identity … all it has to do with is her individual desire. Her desire is personal to her, and maybe she doesn’t even fully understand it, but if she doesn’t like you in that way, you are still amazing and awesome and it will be sad but it will definitely be OK.
Good luck, friend!
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I’m turning 29 in a couple of weeks and I feel like time is slipping away too fast.
Like, there are many things I never expected to happen at this point in my life. I never thought I would come out as a biromantic asexual, or non-binary. I certainly never planned to be diagnosed with chronic pain and fatigue — but I did think I would have had my first kiss by now.
I’m a gooey hopeless romantic at heart. I want that sweet intimacy that comes with a romantic relationship. Nearly all of the queer relationships I see depicted are young people. I know I’m not that old but I feel like I’m becoming more invisible to other queers every year. Which is a feat ’cause I rarely get read as queer in the first place.
Tell me it’s not too late?
Friend, it is not too late!
Firstly and most importantly: This timeline we all seem to think we exist on — elementary school, middle school, high school, college, married, nine-to-five, kids, house, grandkids, retirement — is capitalist patriarchal nonsense. It’s designed to keep us locked in a system that burns us out, pushes us down, makes us miserable, and — crucially! — keeps us too occupied and overwhelmed to start asking questions about ourselves, our desires, our companionships, and mostly our relationship to our labor which creates the capital for the billionaires who spend their free time joy-riding in space. I know that sounds extreme and that you only asked about smooching, but it’s vital to understand how these dang systems have brainwashed us and how they contribute to our general sense of panic about time.
Queer people exist outside of patriarchal time. Being queer isn’t the opposite of being straight, right? You’re not flipping the switch to becoming an antonym. When you come out as queer, you’re stepping outside of the whole entire broken, boring system — and when you do that, you don’t exist inside that system’s timeline anymore. Think about all the things being queer allows us to question that cishet people never even think about: Our gender, our relationship to sex, our sexuality, our labels, the dynamics of our romantic relationships and our non-romantic relationships, what we wear, how we cut our hair, what we want our bodies to look like (down to our body hair; the only decision straight people ever make about body hair is whether or not to grow a beard!), our communities, how we make our money, how we spend our money, how we value our time, our politics, and even our faith in humanity and our spirituality.
I can tell you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about all those things because you’ve already come out as non-binary and biromantic asexual! Which is amazing! And congratulations for having the courage to do that work and figure that out!
So, friend, how come you’re thriving outside the system in those ways but still believing you exist inside the system’s timeline when it comes to being kissed?
I was in my late 20s before I kissed another girl for the first time. I don’t remember exactly how old I was, somewhere between 27 and 29, but what I do remember is that I felt like some kind of Jane Austen heroine, like, “A woman of seven and twenty can never hope to feel or inspire affection again!” ‘Cause you’re not just thinking about the kiss itself, right? You’re not thinking, “I am too elderly to ever press my lips to another queer person’s lips!” If you’re like me, you’re thinking: How will I even find someone I want to kiss who wants to kiss me back? And when I do, won’t it be embarrassing to say I never kissed a girl? Which of course means I’m lacking so many other experiences too! And even if I do meet someone, they’ve probably kissed about a thousand girls and they don’t want to have to teach anyone anything! And if I don’t kiss a girl, I’m not gonna get a girlfriend, and if I don’t get a girlfriend I’m not gonna get a wife, and probably I am gonna DIE ALONE and be TOSSED OUT TO SEA.
When I was in my mid-20s, I knew one (1) other lesbian, and now I have the greatest queer friends on earth. When I was in my late 20s, I’d never kissed a girl and now I have the most loving and soul-sustaining marriage. When I was 30, I’d never published a single piece of writing and now I am a full-time writer at the most celebrated LGBTQ publication on the internet.
‘Cause queer time is different than straight time! It moves differently, it manifests differently, and it allows for lives and experiences beyond anything straight people could ever dream of.
It’s never too late in queer time.
Yours in eternal flux,
Heather
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
I have difficulty making adult friends. When I meet someone new, we will have great conversations and (what I think) is great rapport but then when it ends I never hear back from them and am always initiating the contact. I know they see other people I also know and I guess I feel left out. After a point I begin to wonder if they actually want to see me so I stop contacting them.
Am I coming on too strong? Not strong enough? Is it because they’re straight (I have lost what I thought was a close friend when her husband decided he didn’t want me in the picture)? Is everyone just busy? Do they already have enough friends? Do I really have to only have friends from the queer community?
I feel very alone and would like to meet people and be able to hangout and go for lunch or coffee.
I’m so sorry you’re feeling alone. I know your letter doesn’t specifically mention the pandemic, but I think it’s worth saying this up top: It’s a very fucking hard time for friendships. People are spread so thin, and it’s difficult to deepen connections. And yet, it’s also a time when we all desperately NEED those connections. It sucks! I think a lot of folks can probably relate to you right now. I’m so sorry you’re lonely, but I hope you also know you’re not alone. (In fact, we just did an entire round of Advice Box questions about making adult friends, so if you’re an A+ member, you can look through those to see if any of the questions and answers speak to you! But if you don’t have access to that, don’t worry, I’m also going to answer your particular questions specifically right here!)
Let’s step away from the context of the pandemic and just focus on the broader picture. I don’t think you’re the problem here, which might be worth telling yourself. I think making friends as an adult is hard in general. I also think you’ve probably been affected by some of what you talk about in your letter. I think it’s shitty that your close friend’s husband decided he didn’t want you in the picture. Sometimes when things like that happen, it can have lingering effects. That’s such a major loss that it could be impacting the way you view other social situations. I hope you can find ways to heal from that and mourn the loss of your friend.
For what it’s worth, I do think it’s possible to be friends with straight people! I just think you had a bad experience in this one instance. At the same time, there are definitely certain straight men who are weird and homophobic about their wives/girlfriends hanging out with queer people. Sadly, there’s nothing you can really do about that. But I promise not all friendships with heteros are doomed!
You don’t have to stay within the queer community to find friends if you don’t want to. Obviously there’s sometimes a level of understanding that comes with connecting with other queer people, but let’s be real, just because someone’s queer doesn’t mean you’re instantly going to vibe with them. In fact, some of the tensions/conflicts you’ve experienced in friendships with straight people could very well happen even with queer people! I know queer women who have been in very controlling relationships with women who didn’t want them to be friends with other queer women! It makes no sense, and yet, people are just jealous, weird, and manipulative sometimes.
I do think that making new friends should be approached in a somewhat similar way to dating. For example, I think that when it comes to dating AND making new friends, it can be really helpful to establish what you’re looking for right away and to vocalize your needs as they come up. Say you meet a new potential friend, establish that good rapport, and then never hear back from them. It’s okay to reach out and say “hey, I had a really good time with you, and I was wondering if we could hang out again” or “I’m really trying to meet new people, and I’d like to get to know you better.” Be honest and direct about how you’re trying to expand your social circle. Say “I’m looking for new friends!” You can even join an app like Bumble BFF (someone I’m close with has had a lot of luck with it, and she lives in a small-ish city) and put what you’re looking for in friendship.
People are indeed busy, and making new friends does require a level of forwardness that not everyone is comfortable with. It’s okay to not really know someone that well yet but still tell them you’ve been trying to make new friends. Will it feel vulnerable? Absolutely! But it’s not going to send someone automatically running (and if it does, well, they might just not be the right friend for you anyway, which I’ll get into in a bit).
Some people are just inherently bad at making plans, responding to texts, initiating conversation, and following through on things. And all that has nothing to do with you and what you have to offer as a friend. And I know it can sometimes feel like a burden to be the person who has to initiate contact every time, but that’s just sometimes how it goes in certain friendships! It’s not inherently a sign that the other person doesn’t want to hang out; different people have different communication styles. But also, if that doesn’t work for you in a friendship, then YOU can decide you don’t really want to be friends with that person. It’s possible that some of the friends you’ve made have different expectations than you within friendships, which doesn’t make you the problem. Sometimes we have to experience incompatibility in friendships to figure out what vibe we’re more compatible with. Again, kinda like dating!
I don’t think coming on too strong is really a thing tbh! You should be yourself when meeting new people. If your personality is very strong and forward, trying to hide or change that doesn’t really do anyone any good. And if you’re a little more reserved, that’s okay, too! But when you ask if you’re not coming on strong enough, if you’re asking if you should be more direct and upfront about the fact you’re looking for lasting friends, then I do think coming right out and saying it is a good thing! But at the end of the day, you have to be your most authentic self when trying to make friends. You might have to step a little outside your comfort zone when connecting with someone, but it shouldn’t feel like you’re being someone you’re not.
And if your personality isn’t compatible with someone else’s, that’s no one’s fault! Everyone doesn’t get along with everyone. Different people have different needs and expectations in friendships. If it doesn’t work out with someone, it doesn’t mean you failed. It just means they’re not the right friend for you and vice versa. That’s okay! There will always be people who DO vibe with your values, personality, interests, etc. Don’t get too caught up on the friendships that don’t work out and instead focus on finding new ones that might be a better fit.
As you get to know people better, continue to be honest and open about what you’re looking for in friendships. If someone you’ve hung out with a few times pulls away or leaves you out of something, it’s okay to check in with them about it. Sometimes it’s just a matter of miscommunication or an arbitrary decision and not an intentional exclusion. Friendships last when we can be honest with one another.
Above all else, I really think you should stop seeing yourself as the problem. Don’t be afraid to say what you want — meaningful, ongoing friendship. There are people out there who are looking for the same thing.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
So many of my queer friends are people I briefly dated or wanted to date but who rejected me … sometimes it feels weird that that’s one of the main things that, for example, my gay soccer friend, gay friend from law school, and gay friend I met on Bumble and briefly dated, have in common in terms of my relationships with them. (To be clear, they usually don’t know this about each other — I am the one who knows they’ve each rejected me in turn.) It kind of makes me feel like a loser? Even though I know I “shouldn’t” feel that way. Like it just feels… embarrassing? Any advice for navigating this?
Rejection just always kind of sucks on some level, even when we try to be super rational about it. It’s easy enough to tell yourself “rejection is not an actual assessment of my worth” and another thing entirely to make yourself actually FEEL that. Sometimes it really takes constant self-reminders. But also, I think one of the most genuinely effective ways to overcome rejection is to redirect the brain. Mentally replacing “this person rejected me because I’m not hot/cool/interesting enough” with “this person rejected me because we’re incompatible” or “this person rejected me because they have their own shit going on” can be so helpful!
In your case, there’s actually a pretty straightforward way to do that. All three of these people are your friends, which means that even though they were not interested in dating you, they were very interested in getting to know you, being around you, and building a relationship with you — just platonically. That’s actually very cool! It might help to remind yourself that these people only rejected you in one specific way. Instead of focusing on the loss, focus on the gain. You gained three friends!
One result of rejection is a feeling of loneliness, and even though things didn’t go as you had planned with these people, you still have meaningful bonds with them. I often tell people to respond to rejection by refocusing on existing relationships, like friendships. Remind yourself of what you like about your friendships with these three people. Wouldn’t you rather have these functional, fulfilling friendships than a romantic relationship that didn’t work out? Of course there’s no way to know how more-than-friendship with any of these people would have gone beyond what you already tried with them, but you DO know for sure that the friendships work! That means something! It sounds like the compatibility is just more geared toward friendship, and that means anything more probably wouldn’t have been sustainable.
They don’t ever have to know that they all share this trajectory with you in common if you don’t want them to. Honestly, I do think that with enough time you might even forget that they all share this in common or at least not feel bad about it. I think it would be good for your friendships as well as your relationship with yourself if you shift away from thinking that the thing these three people have in common is that they rejected you and instead realize that the thing these three people have in common is that they are your friends. They care about you, and whatever reasons they had for rejecting you, that’s their decisions to make. They don’t owe you explanations. (To be fair, I don’t get the sense from your letter that you want any explanations or have any hard feelings toward them, but I think it’s worth saying, because if you’re holding onto some of these feelings about the past, it could implicitly impact the friendships.)
It’s often not worth unpacking why someone rejected us, because it so often has little to do with us at all. Rejection is a choice made by someone else. It could mean anything. It could mean nothing! It’s easy to get stuck in a loop of self-blame and self-criticism. That’s why I think it’s good to redirect that energy and be self-centered in the wake of rejection, which is different than being self-scrutinizing! Quite literally center yourself. Put the other person out of your head. Tell yourself you’re hot, cool, amazing. Tell yourself other people are missing out. Focus on creative work or any projects that fulfill you. Dani Janae has some wonderful words of wisdom in this piece, especially in the last section.
You’re not a loser. In fact, you didn’t lose three people. You won three friends. And if you can remind yourself of that, you’ll hopefully stop associating them with rejection. In instances of future rejections, continue to focus on yourself — not in a self-critical way but rather in a way that prioritizes your wants, needs, and happiness. You can’t over-rely on others for your sense of self-worth. When you do need outside validation, seek it from friendships. If someone rejects you, that’s their loss, not yours.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Uh, so… I find my girlfriend annoying, like SO annoying — and I can’t tell whether it’s a) I need to get a grip and be kinder b) tell her (kindly) when she bugs me c) a combo of both or d) this is the sign we should break up?
I’m just finding… so much about her annoying. The way she chews with her mouth open, calls me “bubs” (I’m not a child), doesn’t know how to act in public sometimes, I could go on! And I know that I also annoy her and part of being in a pair is annoying each other but I feel more and more like I’m babysitting and less and less like I’m in an adult relationship.
And I also acknowledge I’m still very much in a growth phase and am still learning to communicate instead of shutting down — my go to used to be pleasing my partner at any cost and I try so hard not to do that but when do we tell someone that something is bugging and when do we let it slide and love them for their flaws? I think I was bunking off when they had that class in school!
Uhhhh, let me know! Thanks!
Babe.
“I find my girlfriend annoying. Like SO annoying.”
Please imagine your girlfriend writing that sentence about you, and then ask yourself how it would make you feel and if you would like to be with someone who felt this way about you.
I am known, amongst my friends and amongst readers of this very website, as being very pro-breakup to the point of sometimes over-prescribing breaking up as a solution. And I will say, as I have entered my thirties, I have become more open to the idea of nuance and compromise, to the fact that not all relationship issues need to be solved with a hard and fast no-contact breakup, to the reality that life is often complicated and we all make the choices we can personally live with.
But this one is easy! You’re dating a person you find annoying. Not just regular annoying, but SO annoying. Who cares if it’s because you’re cranky, because your girlfriend’s behavior is inappropriate, because her quirks that would be cute to someone else are hideous to you or because you’re actually being mean and overcritical… YOU ARE *SO* ANNOYED BY THE PERSON YOU ALLEGEDLY LOVE AND WANNA SPEND A LOT OF TIME WITH. This can’t go on!
You’re right, there is often some genuine soul searching to do when considering a break up. Sure, we’re all a little more cranky than usual, seeing as the world has descended into literal hell across multiple planes and seems to only be getting worse. And yes, sometimes when someone we love exhibits annoying behavior it’s nice to find a kind way to approach that behavior, especially if it’s something a person could work on (not calling you by a nickname you dislike, for example). And! Of course being in a partnership isn’t all hot sex and easy mornings, and sometimes you just have to accept a rough patch or the “flaws” that make us each individually ourselves. But that’s not what you’re describing here. What you’re describing is that the person you currently call your girlfriend is a person you don’t like that much and are not that compatible with. The reasonable, kind, and appropriate thing to do here — in fact, in my opinion, truly the only option — is to break up. ASAP.
The final paragraph of your question has a couple of additional questions/points that I think are worth continuing to work on after you break up with this specific person. Learning to communicate instead of shutting down is an excellent goal, and one that we should all be working on for our whole lives. Avoiding people pleasing tendencies and figuring out your actual truth, and then expressing that truth in a kind and honest fashion, is no small task. Speaking up for your needs while also empathizing with and validating your partner to be their whole true selves is big stuff! I don’t think you were necessarily bunking off when they had that class, I think it’s more that this is the literal ongoing life changing work we are all placed on this planet to do, and the growing never ever stops. We can do this work in relationship and we can do this work alone. I’m proud of you that you’re acknowledging it and wanting to go deeper in it. I think therapy, healthy friendships, and a lot of practice can make up a great syllabus for this work.
But that doesn’t change what needs to be done now. None of those final points are really about your current girlfriend. And I hope my advice has helped you realize the answer is very much D — your feelings about her are a great big neon sign spelling out the word B R E A K U P. I’m excited for you both, because you deserve to be with a person you don’t find annoying and she deserves to be with a person who doesn’t find her annoying.
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
My girlfriend of a year and a half broke up with me. She was my first girlfriend and my first queer relationship. Things have been hard for a while and while I see the ways we’re incompatible, I wanted to keep trying and I never would’ve ended it, even when we maybe should’ve ended it a while ago.
She’s my best friend, and she wants to keep being friends and supporting one another after we take some space to heal. I don’t want to lose her, but the thought of being just friends breaks my heart. And it will break it even more to see her moving on and having a happy life without me, even though I want her to be happy. I never thought I could be friends with an ex, it all seems too scary and jealousy inducing. But I want to try for her. How can we be friends when we’ve been so much more?
I am so sorry about your breakup. I say it all the time, but it’s true: Breakups suck. You probably feel incredibly lonely right now, but I assure you, you’re not alone.
I know it’s probably difficult for you to see this now, but it sounds like the relationship’s end was not only inevitable but also a good thing in the long-run. You say yourself you can see all the ways you were incompatible. You say you would have kept trying even when it “maybe should’ve ended a while ago.” Sometimes, relationships are just not good fits. I think you should listen to your instincts here. If you’re going through the immense pain of a breakup and still able to see the incompatibility, it makes me think we’re not talking about small things here but rather fundamental flaws in the relationship. In my experience, while relationships do take work, that doesn’t mean it should always feel like a struggle. People tend to stay in relationships even when there are major issues, because the pain of a breakup seems somehow worse. But if you had stayed with your girlfriend and these problems indeed turned out to be insurmountable, you would have been delaying the inevitable, and you both likely would have ended up even more hurt in the end.
Just because you’ve broken up does not undo any of the good this relationship provided. Not every relationship is meant to last, and just because it ended doesn’t mean you didn’t learn and grow from it. Breakups don’t mean failures. And breakups don’t erase the relationship. Breakups don’t negate any of the happy memories or the work we do on ourselves in those relationships. She was your first queer relationship, and I think for that reason especially, she’ll always have a special place in your heart. And that’s okay! It’s possible to move on from a relationship but still honor it and carry it with you.
Now, as for the friendship part. If it feels impossible to be friends with your ex right now, it’s probably impossible to be friends with your ex right now. Take the space to heal that she’s offering. She might be ready to pursue friendships quicker than you, but you have to wait until you’re ready — with the understanding you might never be. I do tend to think that so long as a breakup is somewhat amicable (even though you clearly did not want to breakup, it doesn’t sound like there’s any animosity between you and your ex), it’s totally possible to be friends after some time apart. But you also don’t have to put pressure on yourself to make it work right away.
Take the space for real. Do not default to old patterns. That can be hard, especially since you consider her your best friend! If you see a meme that reminds you of her, don’t text her about it. Instead, pivot to journaling or text a different friend. If you take genuine, intentional space from your ex for a period of time and then realize your feelings are starting to shift (you don’t feel jealous; you’re able to think about her outside of the context of the breakup; etc), then you can try to build the friendship.
And I really encourage you to think of it as a building process. The friendship should look and feel different than the relationship. Set clear boundaries and ask about hers. It might not be seamless at first. If you find yourself becoming jealous, pay attention to your feelings and see if you can work through it. Don’t rely on her to do that emotional work with you. Don’t try to process the breakup. To really make the friendship work, you have to move forward together and explore new territory together. It’s possible some of your incompatibilities in a relationship would extend to friendship. Or it’s possible you’re much more compatible as friends! Understand you can change your mind about friendship at any time if it feels too painful. Just as with relationships, there’s room for flaws and conflict in friendships, but they should not feel like they take more from you than they provide.
Shift some of your thinking. Instead of thinking she’s “moving on and having a happy life without me,” tell yourself you’re both taking time to heal and both have the chance to pursue happiness outside of the context of each other. Again, the breakup doesn’t negate the relationship. You will both likely miss each other, and if she starts dating someone new or making new choices in her life, it doesn’t mean you weren’t enough or that you didn’t also make her happy at some point. Focus less on what she’s doing and more on what you’re doing. What have you done to take care of yourself during this painful time? Who can you reach out to support other than her?
The biggest thing for you to focus on right now is just time and space. You won’t know for sure if you really want a friendship with your ex until you reset and focus on yourself. It sounds like this breakup is way too fresh to rush a friendship. Instead, try to find some things that bring you happiness that have nothing to do with your ex. Remind yourself you won’t always feel this way, because I promise you won’t always feel this way. It may be hard to see it until you have more distance, but it does sound like this breakup was the right thing for both of you.
Check out the Autostraddle breakups section if it will help you feel a little less alone <3
You can chime in with your advice in the comments and submit your own questions any time.
Hello beautiful badass and brave writers of autostraddle!
I’m working on a screenplay, and I’ve put a lot of time and work and effort in it. I won’t get too much into it cause then this paragraph will be a mile long, but case short, it’s a very queer story, it’s full of queer women, queer women are filling the entirety of the screen. It’s set in a different timeline, under vastly different circumstances. There are numerous queer lady characters, and not all of them have atrocious endings, but a couple of the main characters get killed off. I’ve always dreaded the “bury your gays trope” and I hate it when straight cis male directors use it. But how does it apply to me as a queer screenwriter? This isn’t my only screenplay, I have plenty of other ideas for films about queer people, and minorities in general that have happy and deserving and funny premises. My stuff isn’t all tragic.
Basically what I’m trying to ask is, as a queer filmmaker, am I allowed to kill off my queer characters?
I have a job on a movie right now that’s about a trans woman. It’s directed and co-written by a cis man. The other co-writer is also a cis man. When the movie comes out the community will have thoughts about it — as we always do — and these men will not care the way that you do.
It’s good that way we care. It’s good that we understand the history of queer film and television and want to avoid the missteps of the past. But so many of the missteps we concern ourselves with were not made by us. As queer creators, we have an obligation to be aware of our history, but we also have an obligation to not be defined by artists outside of our community.
For those of us who are very online, it can feel like we’re experiencing a wave of conservatism in queer art. Necessary conversations about representation have lost all nuance and been replaced with calls for moral perfectionism in queer characters and queer stories. But here’s the thing about a lot of this backlash: You can just ignore it. A handful of people on Twitter are not the community. And we would all be well-served to stop letting discourse get defined in this way. I guarantee the cis people and straight people making work about us are not concerned with these tweets.
Now it’s important to note that as a community we are often harsher on our own. It’s also important to note that many of us do not have the privilege to simply disconnect from the internet. For many of us the internet was the only way for us to build platforms and having those platforms was the only way for us to get opportunities. But we can be thoughtful about when to respond. We can choose when we want to share a tweet or a piece of criticism and when we want to shift the conversation elsewhere. I’m not saying this is always easy. Lives have been ruined by misguided internet backlash. But we can at least try be more thoughtful about the conversations we engage in and how this engagement manifests. Because the issue is usually far more nuanced than the conversations that occur.
For example, let’s take one of the most famous instances of the dead lesbian trope — Tara on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Here we have an abusive cishet male creator killing half of the show’s only queer couple. But is the issue really Tara’s death? Or is it the lack of other queer characters? Is it that Willow and Tara had to be sweet and palatable? Is it that Willow and Tara couldn’t even kiss until the show switched networks? Is it that Buffy and Faith had the sexual tension of a thousand fanfics but the lead of the show could never be queer? Is it that the show as a whole had an incredibly toxic view of women and female sexuality? I would argue it’s not that Tara was killed. It’s all of these issues — and then that Tara was killed.
It can be helpful to discuss tropes. It can be helpful to come up with things like the Bechdel Test. But as queer creators, queer critics, and queer audiences, it’s equally as important that we acknowledge the limitations of these metrics. People want an easy way to judge if something is good or bad, but that’s not how art works. Art is not good or bad. Audiences — even audiences with the same identities and similar experiences — will not agree on what is good and bad or what is good and bad about any particular work.
If queer creators are so worried about backlash from the community that we begin to self-censor, then the only interesting queer work will be made by straight people. It might be bold, but it will be less interesting, less specific, and ultimately negative in the very ways queer people are seeking to avoid.
The history of queer media is not Joss Whedon. The history of queer media is John Waters. It’s Cheryl Dunye, it’s Pedro Almodóvar, it’s Shirley Wood. It’s underground, it’s pornographic, it’s free and dangerous and uncomfortable. Some of it, anyway. And more of it should be. Experiencing art through a cishet gaze is more dangerous than any work itself could ever be. We cannot watch and read and listen this way. And, most importantly, we cannot create for queer people who do.
So bury your gays. They’re yours after all.