Get Out There

A couple of weeks ago I attended this year’s first session of Man to Man, an GBTQ discussion group at the Center. We started off by making a long list of things that we would like to discuss during the course of the year – things like gay PDA, advocacy, body image, but a common theme that almost everyone mentioned was relationships. That is, dating. A lot of people complained that Duke has a hookup culture, which is not new news to any of us, but it begs a question: if so many of us are discontent with the hookup culture, why doesn’t anyone try to change it?

During Sophomore Convocation, Dean Sue urged our class to put ourselves out there and “have the courage to date.” She noted that there is always [and always will be] some risk associated with love. She was right, there are risks associated with love. Love can seem scary and putting yourself out there definitely increases your possibility of getting hurt, but the hope is that all the heartache you may go through will be worth it in the end.  If you want to get to know someone, ask him/her to have coffee or lunch with you.  Sure, there’s a chance that you won’t find ‘the one’ immediately, but there isn’t any harm in going on a few casual dates with someone to get to know him/her better. There isn’t any pressure to ask him/her out again if you decide you aren’t interested, but it’s likely that even if things aren’t going to happen romantically, you will have at least made a new friend. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

Complaining about Duke’s hookup culture without actively trying to change it isn’t constructive. I’m not saying there is anything inherently wrong with hooking up as long as it is mutually consensual, but if you want more, then you owe it to yourself to put yourself out there, cause you never know who might be waiting for you to make the first move. You may get hurt, but “don't brood. Get on with living and loving. You don't have forever.” - Leo Buscaglia

Oh, Mother...

It's a few days before Valentine's Day (yay/boo depending on how you view it. I have mixed feelings...)! But it's gotten me thinking about love and relationships and the whole hookup culture. As I was pondering over this subject, the conversation with my mother about my then boyfriend replayed in my head. So, I guess this is sort of a companion post to that post.

"Wait, so you actually wanted to be in a relationship?"- my mother

"Yeah. I prefer it over just hooking up with someone randomly. It makes me happier"- me

"Oh! I'm so happy to hear that! I thought you were just like all the rest of them and had sex with everybody and anybody! You don't know how relieved that makes me!"- my mother

"-____-"- me

Basically, my mother thought that I, along with the rest of the LGBTQ population, was just a sex hungry dog. She took my being in a relationship as a sign that I was not out walking the streets every night looking for new prey to lure to my "bed of lust and sin" (actual quote from a different conversation). I had no idea how to handle that.

Either:

"Yeah mom! I'm not that promiscuous!"

Or:

"Thanks mom for thinking that your son gets around more than the fabled milk man..."

I mostly ended up feeling hurt. It's one thing to know that your parents don't agree with your "choice of life" (another great quote) but it's another thing entirely to realize that your mother thinks you're going home with a different guy every night of the week. I take my sexual activities very seriously and do not want that label forced upon me. I've never wanted to be known as "THAT guy that sleeps around." I've always wanted to be a more relationship-oriented man. Have I had hookups before? You bet I have! And most of them were great and harmless. But they're not what I want for my life. They're not something that I personally value as being such a great thing. I'd much rather have one steady person in my life rather than bringing back Tom on Thursday, Frank on Friday, and Sam, Steve, and Shawn on Saturday.

I told my mom about how awful I felt when I had hookups with guys that I thought were going to go somewhere beyond a one-night stand. I told her about how I thought we had made some kind of connection that would last longer than the next 2 hours, but I was proved wrong. The hookup would happen and I'd never hear from them again. My mother said that it was because I was being used as an experiment. These guys weren't actually gay. They just didn't know what they wanted. They would probably end up being straight, which is why I never heard back from them.

First, I was a gentleman of the night. Now, I'm some kind of experiment. I was really beginning to feel like a million bucks with this conversation. Despite me telling my mother that I know beyond the shadow of a doubt that these guys were in fact gay and I was not the first, or last, man they hooked up with, she stuck to her guns and said I was just a test and that I'd see later on. She was right and I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. In fact, I, too, am only investigating and will one day finally "come to [my] senses" and be with a woman.

So, yeah. Labels are never fun. Especially, when they're ones forced on you from the people you love most.

Oh, mother. Whatever will I do with you?

Q and A with Your Token Queer Friend

Since it’s finals week and my brain has become entirely useless, I decided to do something fun for this post. I invited my six closest friends to ask me any question they wanted about My Queer Life. I did my best to answer [most] of their questions based on my personal experiences, but of course, I’d love to hear other people’s opinions/responses! Whenever I’m talking about the community as a whole, keep in mind that my responses are based on my personal opinions/view-points and that they may not be true for everyone.

Who has been the hardest to come out to? Did you have any negative reactions?
Well, you [my best friends] were. I’m not sure why it was so hard to talk about my sexuality with you all, the people who probably know me better than anyone. Maybe that was it. Since you know me so well, I was scared that it would change something if I told you that the version of me you knew wasn’t actually who I was. It felt like I had been lying to you or something. Of course, you all knew who I was all along—probably even before I did. And now that we do talk about it, I realize that what changed our relationship was the fact that I hid something so important to me from you.

In terms of negative reactions, I haven’t really had any so far. The closest I’ve come to a negative reaction was one individual who, while trying to be respectful and open, asked several rather uncomfortable questions. Perhaps uncomfortable isn’t the right word…it was more that they were coming from a very skewed perspective.

Do you feel you've been able to express more/different parts of your personality since you've been out (cliche but do you feel more YOU)?
I absolutely feel more ‘me’ now that I’ve started coming out. I feel as though I gained a lot of self-confidence when I came out, which helps me to express myself in all types of situations. The weight of trying to hide something so central to your identity inevitably has consequences that affect how you live your life and how you interact with other people on a daily basis. Feeling confident in myself has allowed other aspects of my personality to become more vibrant.

Who is expected to pay for the first date? What's the protocol?
Generally, I think that whoever makes the invitation should pay. Then again, in my experience same-sex dating is much more egalitarian than heterosexual dating. Rather than there being the expectation that the ‘gentleman’ should always pay, there seems to be an expectation that same-sex couples will take turns paying. Offering to pay for dinner/a movie/whatever else people do on dates is a really nice gesture that certainly isn’t lost when you’re both making the effort.

What's considered sex for lesbians?
This pretty much sums it up.

Are there any terms/phrases/questions that someone has said offhandedly that you considered offensive? And on the flip side, can you think of anything that other people may tiptoe around because they think it's offensive but actually it's not? Do you find it offensive when girls jokingly refer to themselves as lesbians?
I can’t think of anything that people have said offhandedly that I find offensive. People seem to generally mean well, and if they don’t, they tend to make their offensive statement very clear. The only word that I consider offensive is “dyke”—but then again, I’m only offended when someone who is not a queer woman uses it.

It seems like people tiptoe around the word ‘homosexual’, and I’ve even had someone directly ask me if it’s offensive. I personally don’t find it offensive, just awkward. I probably wouldn’t talk about any of my straight friends as heterosexuals—it’s weird, right?

I’m not sure if I would say that I’m offended when girls jokingly refer to themselves as lesbians, but I am annoyed by it. First of all, I think joking about being a lesbian trivializes the way queer women feel and live their life. The fact that I date women isn’t funny—it’s just normal. Secondly, I feel as though the context of these jokes is usually the bigger issue. It’s frustrating when girls pretend to be lesbians to get male attention (#mixedsignals?) or call themselves lesbians because they’re wearing not-so-feminine clothing (#lesbianslikeskirtstoo). We know you want to be one of us, but you can’t. Get over it.

How do you think same sex relationships compare to straight ones? Are there 'roles' as often stereotyped or not so much?
Same-sex relationships are pretty much exactly the same as straight relationships. Same-sex couples go on dates, cuddle, fight, make-up, work on communication, fall in love, get jealous, break-up, and do it all over again. As far as there being ‘roles’ in the relationship, I think that there are always roles that people play: someone is the pursuer, someone prefers to be pursued, someone likes planning dates, someone brings up the difficult topics that need to be discussed, someone typically initiates sex, and so on. I feel that in general, who plays these roles within a relationship depends on the personality of each partner, not their gender.

Do people usually assume you’re straight or gay?
I think that people generally assume I’m gay, but then again, who knows. People surprise me sometimes.

Would you say as many lesbians want to or plan on have children as straight girls?
I’m not entirely sure about this one. My initial reaction is that whether or not women want to have children isn’t really impacted by their sexuality. These days, people have so many options in terms of starting a family that it is perfectly reasonable for same-sex couples to have the same hopes/expectations about having children that opposite-sex couples do. However, my experience with this topic is limited, so I would love to hear other people’s opinions!

Do you think you can tell if others are gay better than most people? How?
I think I have a pretty good ‘gaydar’. Maybe it’s because being queer means that I know what it’s like to go through the process of questioning/coming out, or maybe I’m just particularly perceptive. Who knows? I think it’s pretty easy to pick up on the innate sense of confidence that queer individuals have (yes, even those of us who are super awkward have this confidence).

As far as the gay community and your relationships with other lesbians increasing.. what's your relationship with gay men like?
Great question! While I have met more gay men since I came out and started hanging out at the Center, I definitely wouldn’t say that I’ve built any significant relationships with gay men. I’m not sure if this is a product of the LGBTQ community at Duke being divided in some senses, or if it’s because I tend not to build strong relationships with men in general (gay or straight).


What do you do if a guy tries to hit on you? Do you tell them right away, play hard to get because that's funny, let them keep talking..?
Let me start by saying this doesn’t happen very often…most guys seem to get the idea pretty quickly. For those that don’t, my first reaction is a pity laugh (haha not really…but it is kind of sad). I don’t feel the need to out myself right away—“Hey, how’s it going? My name’s Logan and I’m into girls.” Awkward. Making polite conversation is nice and an easy way to work in little details that will let them know I’m not interested. You have to give them props for making the effort, right?

That said, when a guy tries to hit on me for his sister, I’m all for it! #truestory


The heterosexual Duke relationship culture is generally viewed as hook-up oriented, what's the Duke lesbian relationship culture? How would you say it's different?
In my opinion, the ‘lesbian relationship culture’ is very much relationship-oriented rather than hook-up oriented. The stereotype that queer women tend to get in serious relationships really quickly seems to be true—if anyone has an explanation for why this is I would love to hear it! Realistically, queer women on campus can’t really afford to be hook-up oriented because the community is so small. The chances of finding another queer woman at Shooters—much less having a D-floor make-out with her—are pretty low. That’s not to say that women don’t want to pursue hook-ups instead of relationships, but rather that the community isn’t big enough for that to work—inevitably, you’ll end up hooking-up with a girl your best friend dated two years ago who cheated on her with your other best friend who’s now dating a new girl, who also happened to have a fling with the girl you just hooked up with. You get the point.

Girls often dress "slutty" to attract male attention, what do you do to attract female attention?
Get a queer haircut and wear flannel? Joking. Kind of. I don’t usually make a conscious effort to attract attention. I find confidence most attractive, so I guess that goes both ways? For me, the most important thing is feeling good about the way I’m presenting myself.

What is something you've learned about women that you might not have?
Interacting with other women in a romantic context is very different from a purely platonic one. It’s hard to name anything very specific that I’ve learned, but I think it’s fair to say that I respect women so much more after coming out. Maybe that sounds weird, and it’s certainly not implying that I didn’t respect them before, but it seems like ‘respect’ really is the best word for it. I think I always viewed women in a heterosexual context as being almost dependent on men in relationships—not really taking charge of what they wanted. Seeing queer women as strong, independent, confident, and inspired is really awesome.

What's the biggest advantage to being a lesbian?
Getting to date girls. Girls are great :)

Anonymous Posts (10.10.11-10.16.11)

Every week, we collect anonymous entries sent in using the link on our sidebar and post them all on Monday. We post anything as long as it doesn't contain personal attacks, hate speech, or express or insinuate that one is at risk for hurting themselves or someone else. Please read this for an explanation of this policy and seek help if your or a friend find yourself in that position. With those exceptions aside, please feel free to submit your thoughts and questions. :)

Whew! What. A. Week. Coming out day was a HUGE success! The Huffington Post wrote about gender neutral rooms on college campuses. Apparently it's not just the private liberal arts schools anymore--state schools are moving in that direction, too. Come on, DUKE! I want to see more than just mixed gender apartments with single-gendered rooms. They also featured a column by Sir Elton John (did you know Lady Gaga is his son's god-mother?) about international LGBTQ rights (or lack thereof).

As a reminder, Blue Devils United is meeting this Wednesday at 5:30pm in the LGBT Center. Be there. Also, please note that the drag show has been postponed. We're still looking for performers, so please email Ari if you are interested! No prior experience necessary.

And now, notes from OC:

#1
The hardest part of a three way relationship is trust. My partners have been dating each other for 7 years. I've been dating both of them for one and a half, but I feel like I'm outside of their loop, like I'm still being tested. If I become frustrated with one, the other knows about it quickly, and it creates this uncomfortable power dynamic. I fell in love with the one right away; the other is a nice guy, but our connection doesn't feel like more than a friendship at its best. Neither has ever said that they love me; they both have buds on the side in addition to each other. I don't know how to tell them that I'm frustrated with how slow this relationship is developing. They both seemed really into me at first, but now it's like we're at some kind of plateau. The one that I'm more romantic with has said outright that I'm needy when I ask him why he isn't confident yet saying that he loves me--but the truth is, I DO have needs that aren't being met. The two of these guys are the most important people in each other's lives--they know they are loved by each other, but I don't have that security. I've moved twice to be with them, but it feels like I still have a greater responsibility to show my devotion to them than either of them to me, even after all this time. I have a feeling this is going to be over with soon.

#2
Is it bad that I want to hook up with other guys but I don't really see a long term relationship or anything formal like that? This probably sounds horrible, because you all are self-respecting individuals and all about the social movement of lgbt rights, which is great. But...I just want to have a simple way to mess around, blow off steam.


Please remember that there are a number of resources available on campus and in the local community. These resources are available over breaks and throughout the school year. If you or a friend are experiencing thoughts or urges to harm yourself or somebody else, please reach out to the following resources: In an emergency, please don't hesitate to call CAPS at any time, including "after hours" at (919) 966-3820. Ask to speak to the advice nurse and tell them you are a Duke student. You may also call the Trevor Project, a national hotline specifically for lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, queer and questioning youth (college students included). Their number is 866-4-U-TREVOR (866-488-7386).

Relationship Oriented, But Not Narrow

After reading the top three essays in the Modern Love college essay contest (Want to Be My Boyfriend? Please Define; May I Have This Dance?; My Dropout Boyfriend Kept Dropping In), I wanted to add my personal experience to the dialogue about my generation’s conception of love, sex and relationships.

I consider myself relationship oriented. I find them simple. Straightforward. I don’t like starting my shivering walk of shame without saying goodbye. I don’t like getting hickies from over-zealous partners who don’t know about my “No Hicky” policy. I enjoy my rough, one-night-in-Vegas hookups, but I can't always stop myself from developing romantic interest afterward. Hooking up can be edifying, but is also as potentially lethal as entering a relationship.

Why am I like this, especially when avoiding commitment seems to be the official philosophy of my generation? The rules of the game are: Don’t ask anyone on a date. Don’t expect exclusivity. Don’t ask if you’re going to see someone again. But I do ask people on dates (I’m careful not to use the terrifying word date,) I do expect exclusivity (though this is not requisite for all successful relationships) and I do ask people if I’m going to see them again.

I don’t have a laundry list of interesting characters that I’ve done interesting things with. My post-college romantic life has been a sandwich: a couple of hook-ups buttressing a long, committed relationship. This relationship was the meat-substitute of my romantic life. I wouldn’t trade a million encounters in far-off locations or quirky stories for what I had with her. When our relationship ended I felt wounded. All last semester I was only able to hook-up. I rearranged my non-negotiables. I reevaluated my preferences.

In the midst of this, I asked a girl on a date off-campus. I was relieved when she said she didn’t want to pursue anything further. I didn’t see a relationship unfurling between us, nor the potential for a hook-up. My relationship-oriented brain didn’t calm down until it knew the other party had no interest. In my simple world, if you like a date with someone you go on another. And then eventually you are in a relationship. This narrative is hopelessly quaint. Impossible to achieve consistently, if at all. Did this really use to be my life?

I’d like to analyze the Malcom X movie with someone and make-out with them afterward. Someone I can go out to dinner with. Someone I can have amazing sex with. (Preferably someone who is into kinky shit but is also a sexual health nerd.) Someone I can go thrifting with. Someone with a car. Someone I can dance wildly with. If I met someone now who embodied all these qualities I would feel crushed. Like a butterfly in an exhibit. I don’t like the feeling I get after watching Malcolm X with someone who might hold my hand or fix my collar, but nothing more. I am frustrated by long, intimate, sexually tinged conversations with essentially straight friends. I feel alienated when I grind with someone I couldn’t converse with. This incompleteness is new to me.

The few queer girls I knew in high school rotated around me like a merry-go-round. In middle school I went to sites like Mogenic. In high school, I used Myspace and Facebook (Is anyone else disappointed that on Facebook you can’t search for people by sexual orientation?) My most epic moment was an awkward, groping kiss near the entrance of a Plano mall that was the result of a month-long long-distance online relationship. Then I met another girl who played World of Warcraft and sent me a (obviously fake) picture of her hot girlfriend in Iowa. We watched Brokeback Mountain in a theater (where she got asked to leave the women's restroom) on New Years Eve. She drove me to my house and we watched the ball drop with my family. Then she had to go home, ostensibly to feed her grandmother's cats. Another girl, the reason for the phrase "You looked better on Myspace", visited me at Vacation Bible School. Meeting people online still feels shamefully juvenile and desperate. (The origin of stories you don’t tell anyone, unless you write for this blog.) Over winter break a friend suggested I start using OkCupid. It has so far proved worthwhile; though I've already contacted or rejected every single gay female in a 25 mi radius.I think the more gay saturated an area is, the more the gay and straight youth converge in their attitudes on relationships. If I had more women to pick from, I might not feel the need to commit. (I could also be permanently relationship oriented, or value my relationship skills enough not to let then atrophy. )

I first meet someone in person, usually at school. We start talking. We start talking more and seeing each other more. Eventually someone makes a flirty comment. I’m nervous. I like this person a lot but don’t expect them to feel the same way. They do. We starting hooking up and going out, everything blurring together. Eventually someone pops the Facebook relationship status question. We’re official. In my narrative there’s no room for disappearing acts. If someone becomes unresponsive I imagine that they got busy. I wait. I don’t pine for them. No relationship, no problems. Then the cycle begins again. I don’t envision another relationship created by my dated high-school formula. Like the quadratic formula, it doesn’t work for every polynomial.

How I Learned To Stop Worrying and Love San Antonio...Not

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how much I’m going to miss my Duke/Durham LGBT community this summer. I think my homeland has some potential and it’s nice to have a mission but…

I’ll probably just spend my time doing research and making websites and hanging out with people I already know instead of taking on the gargantuan task of assembling a cohesive LGBT woman-identified community. Though I’ve already broken down my task into manageable parts and sent some e-mails, I still feel sorry that I live in San Antonio and not metropolitan, livable, liberal, "we’re not really part of Texas", Austin (gag me with a fucking spoon.) I could commute one hour plus in horrid traffic to go to the discussion groups at the LGBT youth community center and the hipster lesbian clubs. I probably will just because I’m going to Austin anyway to work with professors at UT. Late-nighting will be difficult since I don’t have any friends who live in Austin (I don't want to repeat the Homeless Challenge.) Making friends in Austin is high on my to-do list.

Even if I volunteer at the few LGBT organizations and art spaces and go to the (male/straight/American Eagle butch dominated) gay clubs in San Antonio I doubt I’ll become a part of a legitimate community or find an acceptable hook-up. This is partly because I have difficulty talking to total strangers and partly because I rarely find someone I want to talk to.

I’m leaving Duke just as I realize that a great lesbian community exists in Durham. I have well-connected friends (ahem Summer.) And I might actually see the women I meet again. Though I’ve lived in San Antonio my whole life I have a paltry LGBT network. I semi-regularly communicate with two queer women. Maybe I fucked up in high school. I spent too much time doing math problems and not enough time getting to know the girls on the softball team. When I got pissed off that no LGBT youth community/resources existed I merely changed my Facebook status.

Now that I’m an anonymous college-age human rather than a wholesome youth I think I would have more options. I can go clubbing all I want but finding a hook-up isn’t as a mechanical, guaranteed process as it is for gay men. When it comes down to it, my desire to build community and serve the LGBT community has always stemmed from my desire for hot women. The more people I meet and the more involved I become, the higher my chances are of meeting a woman who fits my esoteric qualifications (non-white, butch-ish or femme-like, indie, artsy, conventional haircut, internationally-minded, certain piercings, intelligent, tall, fashionable, D&D free.) Though my interest has lusty origins, I can now say that being part of such a community has rewards beyond meeting people to hook-up with. The truth is that the women I’ve hooked up with don’t go to the Center. Some people don't feel the need to be part of the LGBT club. I admire their spontaneity. I can't leave my sex life up to chance. The cholos who used to hit on me on the bus are starting to look good. Maybe I should use this summer to squeeze the gray areas out of myself instead of trying to squeeze the LGBT out of San Antonio.

As I wonder what/who I’m going to do this summer, I can’t help but be bitter that I’m from San Antonio, whose motto is “Keep San Antonio Lame.” Sure, it’s better than being from middle-of-nowhere Iowa, but having to hunt for LGBT shit that’s open to women is getting old. I’ve promised myself that this is the last summer I’ll spend in San Antonio. I don’t care if Harvey Milk told me to “Stay in San Antonio and fight!” He probably never went there himself.