The Importance of the Pod

I recently realized the deep and meaningful importance of my poly network, a.k.a. my pod.

You see, I had a cough that sent me to the hospital, coughing up blood. Doctors diagnosed it as a form of lung cancer.

I spent nine days in the hospital in total. I underwent about as many procedures, including the removal of the entire upper lobe of my right lung.

During that time, I had more visitors than I could count. My boyfriends spread word through the pod, and they showed up in droves to support and comfort me. They brought food and games and colored lights to make my hospital room cheery. They walked with me on my doctor-ordered exercise walks (even shambling Silent-Hill style through an abandoned wing of the hospital).

And those closest to me worked out a shift system of staying by my side to ensure that I was never alone. With so many people caring for me, each of them was able to get more rest and comfort away from the hospital. Nobody had to spend all nine days with me. Often they were all there, but, especially at night, a hospital is an uncomfortable place. With several people in rotation, all my closest support was able to get the rest they needed to take good care of me.

And then I came home from the hospital, on so many drugs I couldn't think straight and hardly able to move from the tremendously invasive surgery I'd undergone. For days I couldn't leave my apartment, and for days after that I could only leave if I was accompanied by someone else.

And still the pod was there. They ran errands to get supplies and medicine (I am forever indebted especially to my friend David for his tireless and prompt support in those first days). They drove me to get groceries. They came to cowork with me so I wouldn't be alone (I work from home). Even from afar, they checked on me and made sure I had everything I needed. They understood that sometimes what I needed was just company, and they provided that too.

And there were so many of them, I was able to spread my need over plenty of people so that I didn't wear anybody out. Nobody got caregiver fatigue from having to cater to me every day. Nobody had to be repeatedly interrupted from their daily tasks to get me medicine and groceries and cat food. Everyone did something, even something small, so that no one had to do everything.

This is the importance of my community. This community exists because of our shared connections and our shared experience of non-mainstream love. We don't all share partners with each other, of course. Many of the people in my network are simply friends, not lovers or metamours. But we're all linked by this one thing we have in common: we all have so much love we simply can't contain it.

And I got to see, firsthand, the expression of that love. This is poly. Yes, it's late-night makeouts at parties with people you've just met, and waving goodbye to your boyfriend as he goes on a first date, and holding hands with your two partners as you walk down the street. But it's also your friends showing up at your door with a bottle of painkillers, and eight visitors in your 15x15-foot hospital room, and four people risking tuberculosis infection (this really happened) to be with you. It's your loved ones taking care of each other to make sure they can all take care of you (don't think I don't know that you were all texting each other to check in!). It's countless people adjusting their lives to be sure you're okay and letting you know they're thankful you made it through your ordeal.

I am certain my health crisis was easier to deal with because of my pod. I am confident I am healing faster and better because of their support. I know I am loved, not just by my partners, but by a huge network of people.

This is poly. This is what abundant love looks like. This is real love.

Are You Being Awful?

Image courtesy of José Manuel Ríos Valiente

Poly folks, it's time to talk. I've noticed lately that you do something really ugly and awful.

"I'm poly, I'm not a swinger. I don't just have sex with random strangers."


Sound familiar? I've heard it quite often. It's used sometimes to justify why polyamory isn't bad, or why a person isn't terrible for having multiple relationships.

The problem? Swingers aren't bad people either.

Under the scope of nonmonogamy you'll find many forms of relationships, from poly to swinging to monogamish to relationships that cannot be easily labeled. No one is a bad person for having lots of sexual partners. No one is a bad person for having just a few. No one is bad for loving many people, or for loving just one, or for not feeling romantic attachment to anyone. None of these things makes anyone evil.

I know it can be hard to have to defend yourself to people who don't understand non-mainstream sexual and romantic partnering. It sucks, obviously. But the solution is not to demonize other people who are in exactly the same boat.

There's room for all of us in the world, and vilifying each other to those who don't understand us won't get any of us ahead. It will just cause more people to dislike you for your identity, because they'll (justifiably) see you as the bad guy who calls them ugly names.

Poly is okay. Swinging is okay. Love is okay. Sex is okay. Everything is okay until we start shoving each other under the monogamous bus.

So next time you feel the need to put your own choices above someone else's, stop and find a better way of making your point.

Supporting Your Partner through a Breakup

Image courtesy of Anant Nath Sharma

Nobody likes breaking up. It just sucks, whether you're doing the dumping or you're the one getting dumped.

Or if you're neither.

If you're poly, chances are eventually you'll be with someone who is going through a breakup with someone else. How do you handle that?

First, and most importantly, take care of yourself. Breakups are hard, and affect not only the people breaking up but many people around them too. You're going to feel all kinds of things, some of them unexpected, and many of them unpleasant. Make time to get in touch with what you're feeling. Talk to friends who can support you. Accept your feelings as valid, no matter what they are. Find ways to reinstate calm, peace, and love when you find they're missing.

Second, take care of your partner. If you've ever gone through a breakup, you know how awful it is. Do what you can to be there for them. Remind them that they are loved. If you know the things your partner especially likes, do them. For example, if your partner enjoys cuddling, make sure every date includes cuddles. If they really like your spaghetti sauce recipe, spend a night in and serve it to them as a treat. As often as you can, create a safe space for them to relax and feel loved. Be gentle with them when you disagree.

Keep in mind that they will act in new and possibly unpleasant ways. They may be unusually sad or angry. They may pick fights with you over small things. They may cancel dates or reschedule at the last minute. Try not to take it personally. They are grieving the loss of a relationship. Your patience and understanding will be appreciated as they heal.

Possibly the most difficult of all: try not to berate the partner they are breaking up with. This can prove nearly impossible, especially if you witness their pain at the other person's hands. You may feel like you're helping by villifying their former partner, but you're not. Your partner doesn't need to hear how bad their ex is; they likely spend half their time thinking that anyway (and the other half missing that person). Instead, anytime you're tempted to badmouth their newest ex, tell your partner instead how special they are to you, and how much you care for them.

Also, don't interfere. Your partner is an adult capable of making their own decisions. Perhaps they decide to have a last night together with their ex after the breakup. Perhaps they are discussing getting back together with their ex. Maybe they want to try counseling to work out their differences. In any case, your job is not to tell your partner what to do, or to try to make it so that they have no choice. Even if you think that person was terrible for them, respect your partner's choice. You are, of course, entitled to share with them any concerns you may have about their ex. But once you've stated your piece, be done with it. Your partner has heard you. The relationship is between them and their ex, and not about you.

It's going to be hard. You and your partner will both experience pain, sadness, and anger. Accept your own emotions, and those of your partner, even if they seem strange. With time those feelings will pass, and your partner will be glad that you were there for them when they needed you.

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Glossary Added!

I got tired of explaining the terms unique to poly every time I used them, so I've added a glossary! Feel free to look it over and let me know if I've missed anything (I'm certain I have).

Living in the Background

Image courtesy of Paolo

I practice what is known as solo polyamory: I don't live with my partners, I don't share money or property with them, I don't have children with them, etc. In short, my relationships don't look, to the traditional, monogamous world, like serious, committed relationships, even though they are.

My partners, however, do have relationships like this. Both of my boyfriends have what is often called a primary partner: someone who fits some or all of the above descriptions.

This means that, quite often, the picture they present to the rest of the world doesn't include me. People who think they know my partners well have no idea I exist. People's assumptions about what must be true based on what they see in my partners' lives leave no room for me.

This can be incredibly challenging. Imagine how you would feel if someone who knows your husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend would be not only surprised to find you exist, but shocked and suspicious as well. My relationships with my partners could threaten many things in their lives, from their incomes to their homes to their other romantic relationships.

It takes a tremendous amount of effort to be "out": not only is the risk significant (people have lost jobs, homes, and children because of it) but it takes a lot of work to overcome the assumptions most of society makes about romantic relationships. Even if people who know my partners see me with them, they will most likely conclude, unless told otherwise, that my partners' other relationships have ended, rather than that we all love multiple people. Although explanation can overcome this, there is a risk of upsetting and alienating the person you explain yourself to. Further, sometimes you just want to have a nice dinner out and not discuss the complexities of your personal life, you know?

I know my partners don't try to keep me hidden. I know they love me and value their relationships with me. But that makes it no less difficult to see, over and over, public support for their relationships with their other partners, and not for their relationships with me.

And the worst thing is, you can never escape being part of this system. If you have a primary partner, people see that relationship and no others. If you don't, people don't see your relationships as "real." Our society just doesn't accept people who aren't coupled up. Even if I did have a primary partner, I'd still encounter these same problems with the other people I date.

My partners and I are open within the poly community, with folks who understand that we love many people. I truly value the support of other poly people more than I can ever express. And, because I am out to everyone I know, people in my circles outside the poly community know I have multiple partners.

But there are no groups my partners associate with who see their relationships with me as equal to their relationships with their other partners. Outside of a few people my partners feel can be trusted, I am, at best, not really discussed, and, at worst, actively kept secret.

I try not to let it get to me, but sometimes I can't help it. I don't find fault with my boyfriends for not making me more visible. I do understand what a colossal effort that is, and just how hard it is to integrate it into life. I just wish the world understood us better, and that my existence didn't require risk and explanation.

Revisiting Jealousy: Is "Getting Over It" the Best Idea?

Photo courtesy of Greg Westfall

Lots of advice in the poly blogosphere has to do with jealousy. It's typically one of the first questions we poly folk get asked when discussing our relationship styles with people unfamiliar with the concept, and it's a common stumbling block for many people in committed relationships, both poly and monogamous.

We've all felt it: that stinging, unhappy bite of a thought that says, "But why isn't it me?"

It's not just romantic partners who get jealous of each other. We feel jealousy toward our siblings, our friends, our coworkers, strangers we've never met but whose success we hear about. It's a common human emotion, and there's even research to suggest it doesn't belong uniquely to us.

Yet most of the advice you'll hear about jealousy tends to imply that you should try not to feel it so much. Or that it isn't real, but only a manifestation of some other emotion, like anger or sadness. Hell, even I am guilty of giving this very advice.

Yet I'm starting to wonder if it's wrong.

The study I linked to above, regarding jealousy in dogs, suggests that jealousy is a normal emotion, and a natural consequence of feeling emotionally attached to someone or something. It's not an expression of anger or insecurity or anything else. It's just itself. It seems, also, to be rooted not in insecurity, as many have suggested, but rather in emotional closeness and bonding.

We typically don't feel jealous toward strangers who have nothing to do with us, even if we're quite obviously anxious, insecure, and angry. Jealousy arises when something we feel emotionally close to, such as a partner, a parent, or a dream job is being shared or entirely taken by someone else. "This is supposed to be mine," our brains tell us. "Why does that other person get to have it?"

If you're a dog lover, you've watched this happen when you brought home a new puppy and introduced her to your older dog. For several days, the older dog growled defensively whenever the puppy came near, and snapped at her viciously when she got within reach. You had to keep them separated to keep her safe.

But you slowly kept putting her in front of him, and he began to warm up to her, until finally they cuddled up to sleep next to you on the couch. You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing they'd be okay together now. Right?

Human jealousy, I think, works much the same way. When first confronted with a partner's new partner, we instinctively balk. We become possessive. We poly people usually try to talk ourselves through it, alone or with our partners and friends. Of course, we sometimes behave badly, trying to control our partners' behavior and reduce our exposure to situations that inspire our jealousy. But our partners continue having good experiences with other people, and eventually the jealous instinct fades until it's gone entirely.

I posit that it's this repeated exposure that reduces jealousy, not any late-night discussions of our personal fears and insecurities. Like the old dog learning to accept the new puppy, we find that, with time, we just feel less bad about the other people in our lovers' lives.

Thus, I also posit that it's okay just to feel jealous and not try to stop it. Do not, of course, act on it. Jealousy constantly tells you to do very stupid things, like have sex with someone you're not interested in just to spite your partner, or forbid your partner to see the object of your jealousy, or spread nasty rumors about that person. It is supremely important that you don't do the things your jealousy tells you to do. But not to feel it at all? That's lunacy.

Maybe, instead, just feel it. Recognize it. Understand it. Know you will feel it again. And again. And again. And eventually, you'll feel it less, until you don't feel it anymore.

I'm not sure any of this is even true. I could be entirely wrong. What have your experiences been?

Living in a Culture of Consent

Image courtesy of Spread the Health

This past weekend, a man killed several people, both men and women, because he was angry no one had ever "given him" sex. (I am not using his name because I have no desire to elevate him to a celebrity for his actions.) This event sparked a tremendous Twitter trend, #YesAllWomen, by which women shared their stories of rape, abuse, and harassment. Feminists shouted. People who had not been feminists became feminists. People cried, and railed, and gnashed their teeth. "We hate this culture," they declared, "but what can we do?"

While this was all going on, I was blissfully unaware, spending my time out of phone and wifi range at a regional burn, similar to Burning Man. I experienced firsthand what it's like to live in consent culture, and I want you to know about it.

The night of the effigy burn, emotions ran high. It was difficult not to feel a deep and abiding love, not only for your closest friends and relatives, but for everyone you met who was part of your experience. Hugging was, well, inevitable.

And yet, for my group at least, consent was consistently requested and given. Friends for years, some spanning decades, asked, "Hug?" before embracing their loved ones. Some felt the desire to be closer, and asked, "May I kiss you?" Even those who had done these things before, even those who had dated, lived together, had sex, etc. Everyone got consent. I was blown away by the beauty of it.

Later that night, I was having sex with my boyfriend in a public place (at a private event, mind you, this was still a legal action). A crowd formed around us, and many people wished to join. My boyfriend and I, however, didn't want anyone else to be inside our experience. These people as well, strangers to us, asked before touching, and respected our denial of consent. One person even asked, "May I watch you from here?" while sitting too close for comfort. He, too, respected our wish to have some space when we told him we'd prefer if he moved a bit farther away.

All of these people, strangers and friends alike, understood when and how to obtain consent, and how to accept the denial of consent. This is consent culture. How, you may wonder, did it come about?

First, we demystified sex. Sex is not the most defining human experience. It is not a goal, but an act. It can be deeply meaningful and emotional, but it need not be. We believe and practice this, encouraging sexual expression, discouraging myths about "purity," and refusing to engage in shaming over someone else's sexual choices. Sex is a thing people do, like eating and sleeping. We recognize that we all do it, so it really can't be that special. When we make it another part of the human experience, rather than the greatest part, we remove the taboo about it so that we can actually talk about it.

Second, we repeatedly discuss personal boundaries and consent. We praise each other for setting good boundaries ("I don't really like hugs; would you like a handshake instead?" "Of course! Thanks for making that clear.") and for obtaining consent before crossing someone else's boundaries ("I would love a hug; thank you for asking!). When someone does violate boundaries (yes, it happens, we're not perfect) we go over why their behavior was unacceptable and how they can change it in the future. We discuss consent and boundaries with the children of our community, so that they understand how to respect them long before they become sexually active.

We intervene when we see someone violate a boundary, even if it isn't ours. "Hey, I know you're friends, but you really need to ask before you pick her up like that." When people respond by saying that it's okay and they do this all the time, we remind them that others see the example they're setting and follow it, and modeling consent is a practice we want to encourage. We don't take offense when someone points out our mistakes about consent, even when it's a stranger.

We communicate. Every action I've mentioned above is an act of communication. Discussing boundaries, asking for consent, calling out nonconsensual behavior, educating each other—these are all about communication. Talking with each other about sex and personal agency is the only way to change the culture.

Also, you will notice I've included hugging, kissing, and other forms of touching in this conversation about consent. Consent, remarkably, is not about sex. It is about personal agency and having control over what happens to your body. Consent for a hug is just as important as consent for sex. A culture of consent focuses on each individual having total say in what happens to their body at all times, not just when clothes come off.

Consent culture is learned. I may seem like a guru now, well versed in requesting and giving consent, but only three years ago I failed to realize I had been raped. I didn't understand consent well enough to recognize that my lack of consent meant the sex people forced on me was rape. I had to learn what consent was, how to ask for it, and how to give it, how to deny it, and how to accept denial of consent, just like anyone else. I learned these things in my thirties. It's never too late.

If I can learn this much about consent in this little time, imagine what we can do together! Let's stop wringing our hands and wishing the world were better, and start actually making it so.

Talk to each other. Practice giving and receiving consent. Recognize your mistakes and apologize for them. Explain consent and agency to your children, and praise them when you see them practice it. Take no offense when consent is denied to you. Thank those who obtain your consent before touching you.

I've written a lot on this blog about consent. Please read it. Please practice it. Please ask if you don't understand.

This is how we move forward. This is how we change.

How to Give a Great Blowjob

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My Return to Being Awkward

Photo courtesy of Trevor Williams

An interesting effect of having been involved in relationships that consumed absolutely all of my attention for the past two years is that I seem to have completely lost my ability to flirt properly.

I think (although I'm uncertain) that I can initiate a flirtation moderately well. I don't really do this, though. I seem not to have enough time and motivation to make it happen.

However, when someone attractive flirts with me, I get completely flustered and awkward, and at best mumble and leave quickly.

This is so totally unlike me I can't understand how it came about, nor what to do about it.

Case in point: Sunday night I met up with a group of friends to share food and conversation and to watch a movie. This is a weekly occurrence for many of us, but we were joined by some friends who come less regularly. Among these is someone I admit I have a bit of a crush on. This guy is quite gorgeous, smart, kind, and fun to be around. So when, at the end of the evening, he gave me a long hug and mentioned it would be fun if we could get together sometime, I, of course, replied with a sparklingly witty, adorable, inviting remark.

No, wait. I didn't. That's what I wish I did. I actually kind of awkwardly mumbled something and left.

This isn't even the first time I have totally flubbed a golden situation with this man. I know he wouldn't be cruel to me, even if he rejected me, so what in the world is my problem? Why can't I be even a tiny bit charming and adorable when he talks to me?

He's not the only one. There have been a handful of times over the past year or so I have watched the perfect moment sail right by me, and thought to myself (sometimes only moments later), "That was absolutely my chance. If only I'd said something witty and sweet."

But I don't. I mumble and look at my feet and, if I'm lucky, manage to giggle.

I can only hope I will be presented with enough opportunities to brush up my skills.

Is this what people mean when they say they've lost their mojo?

The Stress Relief Girlfriend

Photo courtesy of Ciaran McGuiggan

I have discovered I play a specific role in one of my relationships.

I practice solo polyamory. That is, I don't live with my partners, share finances with them, have children or shared business interests with them. Some would call me "single," but I don't feel this fits me particularly well, as I have been in loving, committed relationships for nearly two years now.

The benefit of this (aside from the many benefits I gain from not having my boundaries infringed) is that date time really is Date Time. My partners and I have to schedule time together specifically. We don't end up having time together accidentally, and we never slip into the habit of doing things independently but in the same room with each other. Our dates occupy time we've set aside to spend together, and I really like that.

One of my boyfriends, Rusty, shares a home, finances, and business with another partner. I also gather (although I could be wrong) that he often serves as a sort of caretaker for her: bringing meals and medicine when she doesn't feel well, doing dishes and laundry, seeing to many of her everyday needs.

Most of the time this doesn't affect me much, but sometimes, like now, when he's under great stress, I become The Stress Relief Girlfriend. He arrives for dates mentally and emotionally drained, and requests we do things to take his mind off his stress.

I am often happy to fulfill this role. After all, being The Stress Relief Girlfriend involves a lot of sex and video games, our favorite pastimes.

But, being the only resident in my home (and owner of two adorable but high-maintenance cats), I still have to do my laundry, and take out my trash, and wash my dishes, and clean my cats' litter box. And all last week I was ill, and (through no fault of Rusty's) ended up spending several days home alone, feeling generally miserable and a bit sorry for myself.

It can be difficult, when my own stress piles up, to be The Stress Relief Girlfriend. I like that Rusty thinks of me like this; that he considers time with me the enjoyable escape from responsibility and tedium (not that his other partner is tedious, mind you, just that they share the tedium of work and daily life). I enjoy being able to give him this escape, to be where he turns to feel better.

But I won't deny that sometimes it's not very easy. When he wants a relaxing night away from stress but I have chores to do and cats to feed and errands to run and all my own stress of the day or week, I find myself rushing through my own responsibilities or delaying doing them in order to take care of his needs.

Although I'm sure this sort of dynamic exists within monogamous relationships, I never really saw it as transparently as I see it now. I feel I have this role to play, the free-wheeling, fun-loving girlfriend who is always ready for a good time and happy to provide a place to relax and recharge. Sometimes that role fits better than other times.

I'm not complaining, exactly, and I don't feel this is a situation that needs to be fixed. It's simply not something I encountered before I was in polyamorous relationships. I suppose I am remarking on its existence, and wondering whether anyone else feels this happens in their relationships as well.

On Phil Robertson and What the Bible Says

Image courtesy of Us Magazine

This week, A&E suspended Phil Robertson, star of Duck Dynasty, from the show, following remarks he made about homosexuality. Fans have responded with outrage, although some fans applaud A&E's decision.

So I want to speak directly to those Christians who think the following: first, that Robertson's right to free speech is under attack, and second, that he is being persecuted for his religious beliefs. I know there are many of you. I hope you'll hear me out.

To the first point: freedom of speech. The American Constitution guarantees citizens the right to say whatever they like (within certain limits) without fearing prosecution or imprisonment. That's it. Robertson hasn't been arrested; there's no discussion of taking him to court. The protected right to freedom of speech doesn't at all mean you will face no consequences or judgment for what you say. It doesn't mean others won't condemn you, or that you won't be held accountable for your words. It just means you won't go to jail. So, no, Robertson's freedom of speech is under no threat.

As for the second point: Robertson is not expressing a belief outlined in the Bible. At least, not one consistent with the entire text.

Yes, the Bible does say that it is "detestable" for a man to "lie with a man as [he] does with a woman." (Leviticus 18:22) But that same chapter also has quite a bit else to say, which most Christians seem to have no problem with. The Bible instructs Christians not to eat "unclean" animals, which includes pigs (Leviticus 11:7-8). It also warns against wearing "clothing woven of two kinds of material" (Leviticus 19:19) and having tattoos (Leviticus 19:28).

Getting a bit tricky, isn't it?

Christians all over the U.S. spout bigotry, as Robertson did, in the name of their faith, claiming to be clinging to religious beliefs. Yet many of these same people watch football at least once a week, where players from both teams wear uniforms made of Spandex, a blend of natural and synthetic materials. Lots of these folks order pizzas to enjoy while they watch their sport, eating sausage and bacon, made of pigs. A few of them even get images representing their beliefs inked on their bodies. Wow, what sinners!

The entire list of things you shouldn't do is quite long, actually, and most of us violate them on a fairly regular basis. So really, unless you're spewing as much vitriol about people frying up bacon and eggs for breakfast as you are about them having gay sex, you're cherry-picking the bits of the Bible you want to uphold in order to justify your bigotry.

All of this ignores the entire point of Jesus. I'm not Christian now, but I once was, and as I understand it, Jesus existed only to make sure you're still okay if you do all the stuff God said not to do. You can stop burning your offerings and paying penance because Jesus did the hard part for you. All you have to do is apologize. This, and only this, separates Christianity from Judaism. The Christian messiah has arrived. There is no more need for atonement of sin. Christians are saved. They are forgiven. Even if they keep sinning, which the Bible guarantees they will do, they are still forgiven if they believe Jesus is the son of God.

The things Jesus really told Christians to do were to love each other (John 13:34-35). Not "tell each other how bad they are and how they're sinning." (It's actually pretty explicit about that part, that whole "judge not let ye be judged" in Matthew 7:1.)

Jesus himself kept much closer company with the worst of the sinners than with the highest of the clergy. He surrounded himself not with the most righteous and holy people, but with those society had shunned for their sin (Luke 7:36-50, Luke 19:1-10, Mark 2:13-17). His message was one of love and compassion, not of judgment and condemnation. He practiced unconditional love, and told his followers to do the same. Indeed, to stand out from followers of other religions, they were to love more, not less. They were to love not just each other, but absolutely everyone (Matthew 5:43-48).

Jesus' message was abundantly clear. Love each other, without condition, without question. A person's sins determine nothing about their value. All people are worthy of God's love, and Christians are called to mirror that love, to show compassion for others. "Love the sinner; hate the sin" does not mean "tell the sinner why they're doomed and try to convince them to change."

Other people's sins are simply not your business. Let them speak to God on their own about their struggles. It's not your place to intervene on God's behalf.

If you truly hold Christian beliefs, what you should say to gay people is, "I love you." You should say, "You are welcome in my home. No one here will judge you." Not only will you be doing as Jesus commanded, you will connect with those you love. You may even bring them into your faith. Isn't that what you really want?

Have Sex on the First Date If You Want to, Obviously

Photo by Kena Sen

This blog post is called "Why You Should Always Have Sex on a First Date."

My answer: because you want to. That's pretty much the only answer that matters. And for that to work, you have to strike the "always" from the title, because I have certainly been on first dates where I had absolutely no desire to have a second date, much less fuck the person.

But let's pick it apart, shall we?

Sexually Compatible

Trophy Wife (that's the author, for those of you who aren't clicking through the link) says it's important to establish sexual compatibility on the first date so you can "get the fuck out of there" if your date has a weird fetish like plushophilia (completely ignoring the fact that the reader may, in fact, have this fetish).

Well, first of all, sexual compatibility is far less about sharing the same fetishes and far more about having roughly equal desires and levels of comfort with experimentation. It's also a little bit about an indefinable "chemistry" or some intangible thing that I've never quite been able to nail down.

And knowing whether your sex drives are similar, whether you enjoy similar positions, whether you read each other's cues well...that takes time. It doesn't matter if you have sex on the first date, you're going to have to do it again and again and again before you can determine if you really will fuck amazingly well together.

And if you don't share the same fetishes? Oh well. I'm sure your date will be fine if you don't indulge their quirky kinks, especially if you don't mind them finding other partners who do.

Maybe you're going to discover that you really don't mesh well in bed and sex for the two of you will probably never be great. But why is this vital to learn before going on another date or two? Were you having such little fun with this person you can't stand being in their presence unless it ends in a wildly pleasurable fuck? I dunno about you, but I don't really want to take those people to bed in the first place.

Penis Size

Okay, just shut up. This isn't middle school. The size of a man's penis doesn't really matter. If it's too small, he can use his mouth or fingers instead. If it's too big...he can use his mouth or fingers instead. This really isn't an issue.

Also, welcome to 20fucking13, where some people date women. Some women even do this. Shocking, I know. Trophy Wife is laughably oblivious.

Avoids Awkwardness

Trophy Wife thinks sexual tension makes things awkward. I think it makes things hot. I know I'm not alone in this; TV shows have been continually failing to let their costars hook up for years so they can draw the sexual tension out and create endless "will they/won't they" scenes.

Those first, tentative moments of wondering whether that look means something, of discovering yes, it really is okay to put my hand there, of those nearly electric sparks that pass between you when your bodies get close? You will never get those back. Savor that shit. Enjoy it.

The real kicker in this bit is this line: "Not sure about who is going to pay the check? Feel free to push that bill right over to him because, guess what? You sucked his dick last week. He can at least pay for dinner."

What the actual fuck? Presumably you didn't suck his dick as part of a business transaction (by the way, if you did, we don't really call that dating). Also, I expect he probably did some nice things for you too. Let him pick up the check if he offers and you want him to, but don't pretend you deserve dinner because he got sex. You got sex too.

And again, Trophy Wife seems to have forgotten all about lesbians. Who picks up the check when no dicks got sucked?

Investment of Time

To Trophy Wife, dating is only worthwhile if it's leading to something more. Apparently, sex is a gauge of this somehow. Never mind that you can't really tell that much from sex about compatibility about anything except sex. I have been with some people who were fantastic in bed and were downright awful as boyfriends. Plus, two or three dates doesn't seem to be much of an investment, but maybe that's just me.

The only time she really nails it is when she says, "If it feels right, do it."

That's all you need, really. If you're on a first date, and you want to have sex, and they want to have sex, go right ahead. Enjoy yourselves. Don't feel guilty afterward; you've done nothing wrong.

But don't let this woman lead you into believing you're doing dating wrong if you're not fucking everyone you want to have a second date with.

Personally, I fucked my boyfriend Ryder on the first date, and it was awesome, and I really wanted to keep seeing him for that and a pile of other reasons (like having multiple shared interests, and he made me laugh, and we had similar outlooks, and I had a great time being with him). And I went on something like twenty dates with my boyfriend Rusty before we had sex, and I still found out that we were compatible in multiple ways, and he was kind and generous, and he makes me laugh, and I have a great time being with him. Also, we have great sex.

So, wow, relationships can go really, really well if you have sex on the first date. Also, they can go really, really well if you don't have sex for many, many dates. They can be a shitstorm of hideousness that no amount of good sex can save, and they can be just sort of not exactly right but wow was the sex hot.

Sex isn't a gauge. It isn't a checkbox. It isn't a favor or an obstacle. It's just itself, and the best reason to have it is because you want it.

So yeah. Have sex on first dates if you're both into it. Or don't. It's okay to wait if you're not sure. It's okay to wait if you really, really want it but your date doesn't. It's okay to wait if both of you really, really want it but you're shy and awkward and that would make things difficult for you. Or if you just want to draw out that buildup and make your first time incredible.

There aren't rules to this stuff. And if you take advice from someone who tells you it's important to know the size of your date's dick so you can determine if he's worth your time...well, don't expect brilliant results.

I Don't Have an Open Relationship

I guess it's time for me to get all worked up again.

This shit pisses me off.

Yes, on the one hand, it's good to start discourse about ethical nonmonogamy. I like that the author mentions several well-known folks who have hinted at or outright declared being nonmonogamous. We have to keep talking about it if anyone is to know it exists.

But.

The whole article talks about being in an open relationship or an open marriage. As if you still only get one relationship, and everything else is just some sort of bonus door prize.

It's still all about the idea of the couple and what they do. It's not "Will Smith has open relationships" or "Jada Pinkett-Smith has open relationships." (To be fair, they did say this of Dolly Parton, but I assume that's only because none of her partners are famous.) It seems as though none of Will's or Jada's other partners matter.

I take personal offense at this. It takes kind of a lot to offend me, so kudos are probably in order. Good job. You, Tricia Romano, managed to actually infuriate me. Enough to write a whole blog post about it, even.

I'm offended because I will never be part of the "couple" who has "an open relationship." This simply isn't possible for me. The way I began having ethically nonmonogamous relationships was by meeting (and subsequently falling in love with) two truly amazing people at the same time, both of whom were already nonmonogamous and in other relationships.

Ryder is married and lives with his wife. He has another long-distance partner, and had a second long-distance partner when I met him. Rusty lives with his girlfriend and was dating another person (maybe two, depending on how you count it) when we met.

I never "opened" my relationship with someone. I didn't start a monogamous relationship and decide to see other people too. I met two amazing men and we entwined our lives together.

This, I think, is the fundamental misunderstanding many monogamous people have about the rest of us. We don't do this as couples. We're people making our own independent choices about who we share our lives with. We ensure the people we do this with are comfortable with us sharing our lives and love and beds with people other than them. We don't act as couples, we act as individuals. We make our choices based on treating each other with dignity and respect.

From a perspective like that author's, I am a hobby, a side-quest, a supporting cast member in the lives of two people in an open relationship. I am what they do on the side. I am the extra lover. I am the "whatever he wants."

No. Fuck that. I am a whole person, and I matter just as much as anyone else. As much as I would never wish my metamours (my boyfriends' other partners) would be viewed as "the other women my boyfriend dates," I don't want to be that either. None of us are "others." We are a family, intricately, complexly linked via multiple bonds of love and trust.

And it's not like we don't participate in each other's lives. While I'm sure there are people who don't involve themselves in their partners' other relationships at all, I can't imagine living that way. I feel deeply connected not just to the people I love, but to the people they love, and the people those people love, etc. Our network stretches broadly, and all those folks are my family.

Actually, family is a good analogy, now that I think of it. I've mentioned before the idea of loving more than one child at a time as an illustration of how you can love more than one person simultaneously. Saying someone is in an open relationship is like saying someone has an open parent. It's like calling your brother "my mother's other son." Or saying that Jo and Beth had "other sisters."

So I say, to the journalists who think it would be cool to write about some celebrity couple's "open relationship": consider that the other people involved with those folks are people too. Consider that we have our own feelings and needs and wants and we all deserve to be treated with decency and respect. Consider how you would feel if you were relegated to the role of someone's "other" relationship. Yeah, we don't like it either.

Filling the Meter

Image courtesy of Pete

A question many people unfamiliar with polyamory often ask me is, "Don't you love one of your boyfriends more than the other?"

The simple answer is no. We poly folk often use the analogy of loving many children. Of course you can love more than one person at a time, and our society knows this well because people don't give up their firstborn for adoption when their second child comes along. This analogy pretty much holds true.

The more complicated answer is that love is big and I feel lots of it for both my boyfriends. Each day, my needs from each vary.

I'll give you an example. The past couple of weeks, my poly family has been enduring a truly harrowing emotional experience, affecting all of us to different degrees. It's been difficult for me, but not as difficult as it's been for others. I've been very lucky to have lots of support and give lots of support during this time.

For much of this time, Ryder has been out of town. Rusty and I have had lots of dates, and I've leaned on him for my emotional needs many, many times.

So now my Rustyometer is full. My Ryderometer is sorely lacking. I love Rusty and am so truly grateful to have had him near me, so I could cry, hug, laugh, and have all those other emotional releases. But I haven't been able to do that with Ryder, and the ache in my chest for him is so real it's physically painful. I need him right now, in ways I don't need Rusty right now.

Today, my need for time with Ryder is greater than my need for Rusty. This doesn't mean I love Ryder more. It just means I've met my needs where Rusty is concerned.

Interestingly, this is the opposite of our typical situation. Ryder and I usually get more time together because our dates often fall on weekends. Without maneuvering around work schedules, we end up spending much more time together than Rusty and I spend on our weekday dates.

I expect, although I don't know, that other people in poly relationships have similar experiences. Your meters for each partner may not be the same size. Mine are roughly equal, but I can easily imagine having a partner that you both get what you need from each other with far less time together. Thus, you might need more time with one than another to keep your meters adequately filled.

This isn't the same as loving one person more than another. Once upon a time, my Mothermeter was incredibly large. I needed lots of time with Mom in order to be okay. As I've gotten older, that meter has shrunk, and it takes much less time together to fill it up. Does that mean my love for my mother has diminished? Hardly. If anything, I love Mom now more than ever. Every new experience we have, every insight into her effect on my psyche, makes me more joyful to have her as my mom. My needs have shrunk, not my love.

With Rusty and Ryder, my meters right now are enormous. I can hardly keep them full, and only a constant discussion of schedules and who has what date nights keeps things manageable. Someday, perhaps, our meters will shrink, and then maybe there will be more room in our lives for other people. This will not indicate a reduction in our love for each other, any more than my having two meters indicates I'm lacking a single, larger one for just one of them. It will just mean our needs are met more easily.

Or, perhaps not. Perhaps I will always have enormous meters for each of them that stand to fall perilously low if we miss a couple of dates or tragedy befalls our family. This, we will manage. Because they will also have other people in their lives, so as much time as I spend with someone who isn't each of them, they have that much time to spend with someone who isn't me.

Probably worth noting: I am always happier when my absent lovers are with someone awesome than when they are alone (unless, of course, they are having scheduled Alone Time, which we all need). If I can't be with them, I certainly hope they can be with someone who makes them happy. Their happiness is my happiness.

I do feel that my needs from each of my boyfriends are as great as my needs from any monogamous partner I had in the past. While it takes twice as much effort to keep the meters full, the result is twice as much love. This was the thing that most surprised me when I began dating them: I didn't have two half-relationships, I had two complete relationships. Twice the dates. Twice the attention. Twice the love. Twice the sex. No, actually, maybe ten times the sex. My family really enjoys sex.

But you get the idea. Multiple relationships don't spread the love of one across many souls, they load up love until you are overflowing with it, until you're so drenched in it you can hardly breathe. And it's wonderful.

Why I Didn't Realize I was Raped

Trigger warning! If detailed descriptions of rape bother you, please do not continue reading.

I've posted a good deal lately about consent and rape culture. It's no secret that I'm adamantly in favor of changing the way people talk about (and have) sex.

But there's more to this story.

My journey to my current mindset is long and meandering. It has a lot to do with becoming poly and joining a community of sex-positive, equality-seeking folks who place a high value on respect and autonomy.

The more I learned from these people, the more I understood about rape culture, and the more vociferous I became to change it. It's wrong, I believed, the way we blame victims, and shame women who enjoy sex, and teach children all the wrong things about sex.

Then one day, not that long ago, I was struck by a realization: I have been raped.

Twice.

I'll relate each story individually. I am not changing names because the men who raped me are not innocent and I have no desire to protect them.

Several years ago I went on a date with a man I met on a dating site. He told me his name was Ryan. I can't vouch for the veracity of that, but we'll go with it.

Ryan and I started our date at a fantastic local restaurant. We discovered we had a lot in common, including being somewhat addicted to video games. Interestingly, Ryan worked for Blizzard, the company who makes World of Warcraft. He told me about all the amazing, dorky schwag he had at home, provided by Blizzard as incentives or rewards for good work. He offered to show me. I accepted.

We drove, separately, to his apartment, not far away. Inside he showed me a small statue of a dragon he had received for several years of service. He then started kissing me. A lot.

Soon he was trying to undress me. I protested: I didn't really want to. I was on my period. It was late and I needed to get home. I said no pretty much every way there is of saying no.

Ryan didn't listen. He kept kissing me and taking my clothes off, until eventually he was having sex with me.

After he came (I didn't) he asked me to leave.

A few weeks later I went out with another man I met online, KJ. We met at a bar he recommended, which turned out to be loud and crowded. After a couple of drinks, he asked if I'd rather go somewhere else. He offered that his condo complex had a hot tub. That seemed like a good idea. We headed there.

I changed into my swimsuit at his house (I keep one in the car, just in case). We hung out in the hot tub for a while, talking and kissing. I said it was late and I should get going. We went back to his house.

Inside, KJ started kissing me. At first I went along with it. But eventually he was on top of me, his body pinning me down. I said I wanted to leave, probably a dozen times. He acted as though he hadn't heard. He stayed on top of me as he took off my swimsuit. He didn't get up until after he had fucked me. As with Ryan, he was the only one who came. Also as with Ryan, immediately after, he asked me to leave.

I never reported either of these rapes to police. Why? Because it was years later that I realized they were rapes.

At the time, I thought it was bad sex. Miscommunication. Jerky guys. I was never terrified, which is what I thought you're supposed to be when you get raped. I never panicked. I didn't fight or try to run or scream for help. I wasn't really scared. I was annoyed, and insulted, and a bit angry. But not scared. So I didn't think it was rape.

And this is exactly what's wrong with our current culture.

I'm not a stupid person. I got good grades in school. I have a college degree. I work in a challenging field. I can describe to you both the process by which your body breaks down food for energy and just what the hell a dangling participle is.

So why the living fuck did it take me years to understand that men who had sex with me after I repeatedly told them no had raped me?

Rape is awful, certainly. But it isn't always scary. It's very rarely a stranger in a mask. It's not even that commonly someone you dislike. Most of the time, the victim knows and even likes the rapist. Like me. Had I not found my rapists attractive, I would not have been on dates with them. Had I not liked their company, I would not have extended my dates with them.

But my attraction to them, my enjoyment of our dates prior to them raping me, absolutely does not mean that they didn't rape me. I understand that now.

I never once said I wanted to have sex with either of them. In fact, with both, I said no multiple times, in multiple ways. I wasn't frightened of them, but I didn't give consent.

We must change the conversations we have about consent. Consent isn't lack of a fight. It isn't wearing someone down until they give in. It isn't pretending not to understand what "no" means. It isn't threatening someone until they change their mind.

Consent is yes. It is unequivocal, unambiguous, obvious.

And rape isn't just one experience. It doesn't have to be terrifying. It doesn't have to be life-changing. It doesn't have to be violent. It doesn't have to make you hate yourself or anyone else. It doesn't have to make you feel dirty, ugly, or ashamed. It doesn't have to make you ill.

It might do those things, but it might not. It can happen just as easily to men as to women.

Being fucked by someone who didn't listen to your repeated requests not to have sex isn't bad sex. It's rape. Being held down by the body of a person bigger than you so that you can't leave until you give him what he wants isn't bad sex. It's rape.

I was misled. By a culture that focuses more on saying no than saying yes. By a society that paints rapists as evil villains instead of the normal people they are. By media portrayal of rape as a violent, bloody assault involving screaming and kicking and crying.

I get it now, but it took me a long time to get it. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Sex without consent isn't bad sex, it's rape. This shouldn't be a puzzle, but it's surprisingly difficult to recognize unless you've learned specifically how to see it.

Which means it's the responsibility of all of us to teach each other about consent. To stop glamorizing "sexy silence" and emasculating men who ask permission. To ask each other what's okay, and actually listen to the answers. To quit applying labels like "tease" and "bitch" to women who go on dates that don't end in sex, even if there was obvious mutual attraction.

Otherwise, we're all complicit.

The Romeo Rose Trainwreck

Actual photo from Rose's website

By now you've likely seen Romeo Rose's website. If you haven't, go take a look. (It's often under too much traffic to work, so check the mirror if you get an error.)

TL;DR version: this guy apparently sucks at finding his own girlfriends, so he wants to pay you $2500 to find one for him. Bonus $1000 if they get married!

(Let's stop for a moment to snicker about his outrage that a pimp contacted him. Because paying someone to find you a girl? Why would that EVER imply a pimp would be involved?!)

So, we'll leave aside the racist and general douchey stuff because mocking racism is just too easy to really be fun.

What I want to know is this: when did it become okay to sell women?

I realize this isn't trafficking. Far from it. However, what Rose proposes is a financial transaction between himself and another person in which he offers money in exchange for a woman. The woman, presumably, gets only the pleasure (torture?) of being his girlfriend.

I'm gonna go out on a very short limb and suggest that, if a woman were to present herself to him as a dating option, he probably wouldn't pay her the 2500 bucks.

How in the holy hell did he ever decide this was okay?

"Wait," you may be thinking, "sites like eHarmony and Match.com charge fees. How is this different?"

True, some dating sites do charge fees. But both people involved agree to those terms. Matchmaking, in which a neutral third-party acts as a go-between for potential mates, is a fair way to look for a partner.

That's not what's happening here. This is two parties, Rose and Person X, deciding to send a woman with no vested interest in the situation to date Rose. She may not even know what's going on. Nowhere does he stipulate that his dates must know about his site or the transaction.

In fact, he explicitly condemns the idea of someone finding him a girl and splitting the money with her after payment is received. Again, to him, this is prostitution. If only the pimp gets paid though, apparently it's okay. But let's not say "pimp" because that's gross!

The only good thing about this website? Now I know what this guy looks like, so I can be sure to avoid interactions with him.

Consent--No is Less Important than Yes

Photo courtesy of Doug Wheller

Over the past couple of weeks, there has been an internet brouhaha over rape culture and slut-shaming, inspired by Kim Hall's open letter to teenage girls. Many folks have sounded off with incredibly good stuff (like this post from a father to his son, this post showing another mother's reaction, and this post detailing the way another mother handles teenage sexuality). I've posted twice in response: once in direct response, and again regarding what rape culture doesn't look like.

And that brings me to consent. We hear all the time about how "no means no," and it's true, but the fact is, it's rare that anybody says "no." Maybe eventually they do, but things have already gone too far at that point, and the rapist probably already knew that person didn't want to have sex with them.

So let's stop this nonsense rhetoric about "no means no" and start talking about "yes means yes."

This is not a new concept. People who have really awesome sex, especially those who speak or write publicly about it, just can't shut up about enthusiastic consent. Why? Because it's totally clear and unambiguous, and leads to really awesome sex.

The "no means no" line implies that a lack of "no" is the same as consent. If a woman just lies back and takes it, she must be consenting. Never mind that she might be unconscious or afraid to make things stop. Never mind that she might have been threatened, coerced, or otherwise forced into letting things happen. She's not flailing at you with her fists and screaming, so she must have consented.

"Yes means yes" turns this on its head. It means that, if your partner doesn't outright state their desire to have sex with you, you don't have their consent. No more "it wasn't rape because she wasn't awake to say no." No more "it wasn't rape because, after I held her down so she couldn't leave, she let me have sex with her."

People don't say "no" for all kinds of reasons. They don't want to hurt your feelings. They're nervous. They're afraid of what might happen if they turn you down. They're unsure of what they want. Regardless, silence isn't taken for consent in most situations, so why should sex be different?

If you asked your girlfriend, "Do you want a Hawaiian vacation for your birthday?" and she didn't say anything, would you buy plane tickets? If you asked someone at the grocery store, "I only have one item, do you mind if I check out ahead of you?" and they stared determinedly into space, would you cut in front of them? Why is it that "you didn't say no" applies only to sex?

There's some misconception about asking for consent and getting a yes that it somehow makes things less sexy. This, friends, is total bullshit. What could be sexier than whispering in your partner's ear all the things you want to do, and asking if they're ready to do them? Or hearing them tell you exactly how they want to fuck you, then responding enthusiastically? Enthusiastic consent makes sex better, both in that you'll get turned on by your partner's sexy "yes, oh please, yes!" and by knowing what to do to please them. You simply cannot go wrong.

Also remember, you are not asking for permission, you are investigating desire. It's far, far sexier to say, "Do you want me to fuck you now?" than it is to say, "May I fuck you now?" It also opens better communication. Maybe your partner's answer will be, "No, I want you to give me a blowjob, then I want to give you one." Maybe it will be, "I want it, but not just yet, warm me up with your fingers first." Or possibly, "No, baby, let me fuck you." No matter what, you'll know exactly how to proceed, and you won't have killed the mood in the process.

It's important to point out that getting consent never goes away. No matter how long you've been together, no matter if you're married or living together or just had sex a minute ago, you need to get consent every time. Consent for previous sex doesn't count for current sex, and consent for one act doesn't count for another.

So tell me, do you want to have sex with someone who lets you fuck them, or with someone who wants you to fuck them?

Men I Know Who Aren't Rapists

Photo courtesy of Paul Bica

I posted last week about rape culture and how it's buoyed by telling girls to be ashamed of their sexuality and telling boys they can't help themselves when it comes to sex.

Let's talk now about adults. I'm an adult, and I only have sex with adults, and, really, I almost exclusively interact with adults. And all of us grew up hearing the "boys will be boys" and "good girls are virgins" lines. Yet some of us learned to think differently. I want to tell you what can happen when, as a community, we empower all people to control their own bodies and sexualities.

I have been a member of microcommunities that place a high value on autonomy, respect, and responsibility. The principles on which they operate state that each person is solely responsible for their experience of the world. The only way someone can force you to do something is through physical force, coercion, or extortion, all of which are illegal and rightly should be punished. Thus, people in these communities don't believe the myth that girls should be pure or that boys are lustful, uncontrollable animals.

Within these communities, at some events, I have been naked. Sometimes it was for art, or self expression, but mostly it was just because I like being naked. I understand that it may have aroused some people. Hell, sometimes, that was the point. Sometimes, when I was naked, I was also having sex. In front of people. Men, even. Some of whom I didn't even know.

And do you know what? None of them raped me. Not even close. I never even felt as though it was a possibility. Some of these men have seen me like this on multiple occasions, and, far from lusting after me uncontrollably, they treat me with respect and dignity.

I'll give you a second to consider that. I have had hot, wild, animalistic sex in front of men I barely knew and, afterward, they treated me with the respect that should be afforded to all human beings.

I have been a giant slutty slut in all my slutty glory right there where these guys could see it, and it didn't make them think any awful things about my character (that I know of) or treat me as less of a person or violate me in any way.

Sure, some of them may simply not find me attractive. But, based on statistics alone, probably some of them do, and they still have managed to behave as the rational, thinking, empathetic people they are, rather than vagina-seeking missiles with no control over what happens when they get a boner.

They are great guys, and I don't mean to undermine their character in any way, but they are also normal guys. They have jobs and families and like beer and sports and, well, yes, sex. But they don't think that their penises give them excuse to treat other people badly, and they don't see sex as something they are entitled to if they want it. Not because they are great thinkers with amazing self-control. Because they simply learned to think of people as people and not toys.

If this is possible with these totally normal guys, then it's possible with other totally normal guys who aren't part of microcommunities like ours. Clearly, men can be aroused by other people and still not demean, harass, or abuse them. They can see women as desirable yet still also see them as people and treat them with respect and dignity. They can control their sexual urges, and, if they wish to act on them, make sure they get consent first. (More on consent in a later post!)

If they can do this when a woman is having sex right in front of them, they can do this in any circumstance. There is simply nothing at all a woman can do to cause a man to rape her, and anything you've heard to the contrary is untrue.

I know it's possible some of you are reading this and thinking that I am engaging in very dangerous behavior. Some of you think if I get raped I will have had it coming to me. I desperately want to hear from you. Please comment so that we can have a conversation. I want to know why you think these things.

Why This Well-Meaning Christian Mother is a Symptom of Rape Culture

Photo courtesy of Oteo

I recently came across this article, which I'd love for you to take a few minutes to read. In short, a woman who is the mother of several teenage boys gives advice to the girls they are friends with on Facebook: stop posting sexy photos of yourselves or she will block your accounts so her sons can't see them.

This may seem harmless enough. She's protecting her sons, ensuring what's best for them, right?

Wrong. This attitude is representative of rape culture. Let's examine why.

It presupposes the idea of "good girls" and "bad girls." "Good girls" aren't interested in sex. They keep their virginities intact, to one day be given, like gifts, to the men they marry, or at least men with whom they have meaningful, long-term relationships. When they do have sex, they do so to make babies and to please their men, but never because they really like it. If they happen to like it, they keep quiet about that. "Bad girls," however, are casual and nonchalant about sex, throwing away their purity on whoever is close by. They are dirty and full of disease, and nice boys should avoid them at all costs.

The author says, "We think you are lovely and interesting, and usually very smart." But she determines that posing with "the extra-arched back, and the sultry pout" and "not wearing a bra" betray that these girls actually are not lovely, interesting, or smart. In her mind, a girl can only possess these good qualities, qualities that every girl hopes to have, by not being sexual, and not displaying any sexuality.

In reality, none of this is the case. Young women, like young men, discover their sexualities in their teens, typically. As they begin to understand their attraction to other people, they realize that some people are attracted to them. This is a brand new thing for them, and of course they want to experiment with it. They discover how to show off body parts they've only recently grown into: breasts, hips, waists. They play up their facial features with makeup. They learn to flirt, and to be flirted with in response. They find the pleasure we all find in kissing deeply, in fondling, in sexual play. They begin to have orgasms, and consider whether those can come from intercourse.

The second disturbing assumption the post makes is that boys will be boys, and the only thing we can do is to limit their exposure to temptresses. Says the author, "Once a male sees you in a state of undress, he can’t ever un-see it." She asks, "You don’t want the Hall boys to only think of you in this sexual way, do you?"

This woman, who clearly loves her sons dearly, gives them no credit at all for being thinking, reasonable humans. She assumes that their sexual desire is so out of control, so beyond their capacity to manage, that posing for a sexy photo means they can't help but have sex with you.

What kind of message does this send to young people? To this woman's sons? That they can have no control of their sexual behavior? That seeing a girl "in a state of undress" gives boys excuse to objectify her? That once a woman becomes an object of sexual desirability, she loses all value and is thus no longer worthy of being anything but a fuck toy?

Why is it okay for boys to have rampant sex drives that can barely be held in check, but girls are not allowed to want sex? Why is a boy who wants sex just a boy, but a girl who wants sex is a stupid, uninteresting slut?

Further, if a boy has been told his sex drive is beyond his control, and he can't help wanting to have sex with girls in sexy poses, how is he to respond when one of those girls actually wants sex? This assumption gives him no ability to say no. She's naked, he's hard; the only conclusion he can reach is that he must fuck her, even if he actually has reservations.

All of this is pure nonsense, and incredibly harmful. Sexual exploration and discovery is a normal part of being a teenager, for both boys and girls. Both genders think they know far more than they actually do about it, and both tend to make lots of mistakes. Both desperately want to be desired and accepted.

But perpetuating this idea that all boys want sex to the point of having no ability to hold themselves back, while only slutty, unworthy girls want sex, creates the environment in which rape happens. If he's been told he can't help himself, why should he try? How can a young woman not think it was her fault if a boy forces himself on her, if she was so terribly tempting?

We must change the way we talk to young people about sex. More than that, we must change the way we think about sex. Sex is normal, healthy, and the reason all of us exist. It isn't a gift to be hoarded by women and clamored over by men. It isn't a commodity women trade for security and safety. It is a basic activity that is fundamental to human nature, and, like eating and sleeping, we control when and how we do it.

We must expand the conversation from telling girls how to say no. Girls and boys alike should know how to say no, but they should also know how to say yes. They should know how to tell someone what they want and what they aren't comfortable with. They should be able to define their own limits, and respect limits others set.

Most importantly, we must teach them that they are the only ones who control their bodies. No amount of sultry poses can force a boy to have sex with a girl. No lack of clothing can relinquish a girl's right to say no.

Let's change the conversation we have with our kids about sex, and see if we can put an end to tragedies like Steubenville.