One of my daily stories is Doctor Nerdlove. I read his website, and then recently discovered (remembered) he also writes for Kotaku. I’ve been bingeing past articles, and there are a few themes that have stuck with me that I’d like to explore. Before I do that, I would like to say if you’re a dude who is struggling with dating issues, please read Doctor Nerdlove. He is on point 98% of the time, and his writing is clear and easy to digest. It’s refreshing to see a dude just lay it on the line and be quite frank when the letter writer is acting like an entitled prick. Do I agree with him all the time? Of course not, but I think his general principles are sound.
The first principle I want to explore is his belief that love is hard, but it’s worth it. That’s a gross generalization, of course, but it’s pretty much the bottom line of his advice to people struggling with dating for a variety of reasons. It’s mostly dudes wanting to date women, but there have been other permutations as well. His bottom line is that, yes, the dating pool may be harder for some (say if you’re a fat woman of color who dates men, for example), but that love in any shape or form (as long as it’s healthy) is worth it.
To which I’ve been asking myself, “But is it, though?” To be clear, I’m not saying that lifelong love can’t happen. It can. My BFF met her husband when she was fifteen and has been with him for nearly thirty-five years. They’ve had many hard times, but nearly thirty-five years, one daughter, and one move out of state later (still miss ya, K!), they still love and support each other. My other bestie recently met the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and I’ve never seen him happier or more comfortable with himself.
So, I’m not saying it’s not possible or that people shouldn’t strive for it if it’s what they want. The last part is key, though, because it’s too easy for people in this society to think that a long-term monogamous relationship is the be-all/end-all. To be clear, the good not-doctor is not advocating either of these things, necessarily. But it’s still baked into a lot of the questions, and I would love to see people really dig into this expectation. I’ve done it myself over the years, and who I am now as far as romance goes is so different than who I was when I first started dating (I was 16).
It’s changed dramatically, mostly by the decade. When I was sixteen, I naively assumed I’d be married and have kids by the time I was thirty. That’s what both my cultures (American and Taiwanese) pushed on their members, and I was awash in it from a more personal standpoint as my mother…yeah, I’m not getting into that right now. Anyway, when I was twenty/twenty-one and in a relationship with a guy, I slowly started realizing I was sexually attracted to women. Around the same time, I realized I didn’t want kids. Like at all. Not even one bit. This was the easiest decision I ever made in my life, and one that I haven’t ever regretted since.
During my twenties, I had both my ‘I desperately want to be merged with one person’ period and my slut years; they even overlapped. I was a hot mess in my twenties, which I think is the definition of being in your twenties. Still. I look back at my slut years with affection. I had a fun time, and I wouldn’t mind recreating them now with some modifiers.
My thirties hit, and I realized I didn’t want to get married. I mean, I had always had reservations about living with a lover. I like a lot of space. Like, a LOT. I like being able to do my thing whenever I want and not answer to anyone other than my cat, Shadow. The more I thought about it, I couldn’t see a reason to get married, especially since I didn’t want to get married. I mean, I could see it from the legal point of view, but that’s what lawyers were for. I even was peeved that marriage was the issue queer people decided to focus on rather than, say, employment rights. I mean, I’m all for equality, but that was some bougie shit to me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad marriage equality is a thing now, but I would have preferred job security first.
Anyway, yeah, marriage was out the window for me when I realized I was trying to find reasons why it was a good thing. I just didn’t feel it at all, not that it was an option. But, when I figured out it wasn’t what I wanted, it was another sense of relief. Not as big as the one when I realized I didn’t have to have kids, but still. It was a weight off my shoulders. Amusing anecdote. My boyfriend at the time asked me if I’d marry him if he proposed even though he knew I wasn’t into marriage. Did I say amusing? I meant irritating. No, I would not marry you if you proposed because I don’t want to get married.
See? It’s such an ingrained part of our society that a woman wants to get married and have children–oh, and that they don’t really enjoy sex. I can’t tell you how many dudes who were enthusiastic early on by my high libido soon became uncomfortable with it because they couldn’t keep it. I’ve only had one dude want sex as much as I did, and that was in a situation where we never really had to test to see if it would last in the long run.
Side note: Dudes. My dudes. If there is one thing I could impart upon you it would be to actually listen to the women you are trying to get with. We are the ones who are living our lives and no one knows us better than we do. Barring that, listen to your friends who are women over your friends who are men. I mean, you do have friends who are women, right? One reason I like having friends of different genders is because I get insight into different ways of thinking. While remembering that people are individuals, there are some throughlines for the different genders that is interesting to see.
When I say that I could have sex every day and masturbate in addition, I mean it. Or rather, I did when I was younger. Now? I’m not so sure. My mind is willing, but my body may not cooperate. Which is one thing where I disagree with the good not-doctor. He is adamant about doing something active for a first date like go karts or dancing. For me that would be a hard no because I simply cannot do physical stuff for very long these days. Well, the former is a hard no because I hate go karts, but the latter is a reluctant no because while I love dancing, my body simply can’t these days. Now, while I agree a movie isn’t a good idea because it’s passive (and because I don’t like movies), I disagree about doing something more sedate. I’d rather talk to someone for an hour than, say, hike three miles. Also, no on venue hopping. That’s too much energy expended.
Anyway. Back to is it worth it? I think you need to take a step back and first act, is it what I really want? In my early forties, I started thinking about whether I even wanted a romantic relationship. I already knew I was some flavor of not strictly monogamous, but I never really allowed myself to think to what extent I was ‘weird’. But, for several reasons, I came to the conclusion that I don’t want a primary partner. Some are good reasons and some are for my own mental health, but in aggregate, for me love isn’t worth it. Or at least any version of love that has the implication of time-consuming and really long-lasting.
The second thing I want to talk about is virginity. The good not-doc often gets letter from older virgin dudes who are convinced that they are doomed because they are virgins. They think it’s a make-or-break deal, and Doctor Nerdlove is good in pointing out that it’s just one data point and it’s more their attitude about it that matters than the actual fact. If they treat it like it’s not a big deal, then most likely their partners will, too. I don’t have a problem with that. In fact, I heartily support it. The issue I do have is that he (and several commenters on his own site) insist that having sex doesn’t change you as a person. That it’s a good experience to have, but that it doesn’t fundamentally change you.
I disagree. When I first had consensual p-i-v sex, it did fundamentally change me–that was when I lost my religion. Or rather, when i gave up trying to desperately make myself believe in a God I never felt existed in the first place. I was raised fundie, and I tried so hard to believe. I really did. But, I never felt the truth in any of what I was being fed, and when I had sex for the first time, it was as if the blinders fell from my eyes. This was what was sending my soul to eternal damnation? This was the unforgivable sin (as conveyed in my church, if not explicitly, then implicitly)? This act that felt so damn good and hurt no one?
Once that lie was exposed, Christianity didn’t stand a chance. That was the basis for my church’s whole religion (or so I believed), and there was no way for me not to see how wrong the whole religion was once I found out the truth about sex. the demon they’d been shaking in my face for a decade and a half turned out to be a paper dragon, and there was nothing they could say or do to make up for the systemic and sustained lie.
I also found out that I really, really, really liked sex. A lot. In fact, while I don’t miss having a romantic relationship, I do mix sex. Quite a bit. Fortunately, that’s something I can do something about if I so choose.