Estimated reading time: 14 minutes
Hey Doc,
This may be a fair bit beyond your paygrade, but at the end of the day my main question is fairly tame (and I thankfully have a very, very good therapist).
To kick things off, I’m a 35 y.o, cis, queer, intersex man. ‘Intersex’ can mean a lot of things, but in my case it’s the bottom dysphoria, not producing my own T, “TSA is occasionally fraught” variety. I also, up into my early 20’s, spent a long time in the sexual violence trenches, and my nervous system ended up pretty fried. While it’s slow going, a few years of trauma therapy has helped a lot, and I’m actually optimistic about getting a handle on the ol’ dissociative disorder.
The reason I’m writing is that, frankly, I struggle with basic human intimacy. Which probably isn’t a shocker, but it’s been causing me a lot of pain.
I’m incredibly touch averse despite desperately craving it. I love giving, being attentive, laser-focused on someone else, but an unexpected cuddle turns me into a shaking Italian greyhound in a sweater. I’ve had my brain backflip into cold, detached revulsion after getting a lewd text from a partner, as desire being directed back at me was Danger. Yet I want all these things, despite the difficulty, and there’s a deep pool of grief that bubbles up whenever I examine that.
Suffice to say, it’s not ideal. Meeting people hasn’t been too difficult, at least since I cast off some of the brainworms and shackles of trying to appease cishet expectations. A small dating pool of sweet queer weirdos has made me feel more at home. Building anything beyond short-lived adventures has me hitting the brick wall above, though, and I inevitably recoil, or they find one-way affection unsatisfying after a while. Emerging from my cave 1-2x a year and enjoying being a rope top – fun, kinky, no wandering hands – lets me microdose human connection, but watching a campfire from a distance doesn’t replace huddling next to it for warmth.
That said, I’m getting to a point where only talking and processing has diminishing returns. Actual Good Experiences seem like an important part of healing, and existing in stasis isn’t a recipe for happiness. Plus, I’m a yearner at heart, and lonely.
Now, with all that context in mind, here’s where you come in: is wanting that reasonable, maybe even achievable? I can’t help but worry that asking to understand my hangups, or accommodate them while we carefully explore, is a big request. There’s a voice in the back of my head that’s insistent that I need to be 110% functional and fixed by this age (laughably wrong, I know, I know), that I’d be dumping a project on their lap, that it’s just plain too late, the list goes on. Here’s hoping you can set that voice straight, at least a bit.
Thanks in advance,
Socially Distanced
You mention having a very good therapist, SD, so I have an important question: are you working with them on getting more comfortable with physical touch and intimacy? Because I have some thoughts – ones you may well have already explored or rejected, I realize – but I would strongly suggest that you discuss them with your therapist first, in detail, before trying them. But we’ll get to that in a moment.
But let’s address your immediate question: is wanting a relationship, with the associated moments of connection and intimacy reasonable? Yeah, absolutely. Humans are social animals, and touch is a huge part of how we connect and bond with others. Physical touch is critical in development – infants will suffer developmentally and even sicken and die without physical touch – and it’s important for our psychological and emotional health as adults. In fact, many people in cultures where physical contact is more fraught or uncommon (like, say, America) deal with what’s known as “skin hunger”, which can cause emotional distress, worsen mental health issues and weakens the immune system.
Is it achievable? In theory, I don’t see why not. Love and the need for intimacy tend to find a way, regardless of the obstacles in the path. The methods of getting there can be particularly fraught if not pursued with care and consideration, and there’s no real way to say when you might be in a place where it’s more feasible, but it is possible.
(I say in theory only because one can’t guarantee outcomes, especially when other people are involved.)
Depending on circumstances and where you are in your healing journey, it may be a difficult and challenging proposition. You’re going to be dealing with a number of obstacles that will make your compatible dating pool much smaller than it might be under other circumstances. But difficult isn’t the same as impossible. What’s more likely is that it will mean that you will be having to vet potential partners much more rigorously, ensuring that you have very strong boundaries and incredibly clear communication.
Ironically, you already have a model to follow for how you can proceed with a partner without hitting trauma-induced landmines. In fact, you mention it in this very letter: BDSM and rope play.
One of the most important aspects of BDSM – and something a lot of folks don’t realize – is how much planning and discussion goes into a scene. Bondage, especially anything involving immobilization, suspension or restraint, isn’t something that one improvises. Scenes are planned out in great detail, from the tools (not all ropes are equal and many require preparation), the technique (which knots, what sorts of restraints, shibari vs. harness vs. cuffs etc.), duration, limits, aftercare and so on. Not planning things out carefully, from start to finish and with the participation of all parties runs the risk of physical injury, trauma and emotional harm.
The tools and practices of kink all translate extremely well to relationships in general, and these are all tools that you can use to help ensure that any physical contact and intimacy with a partner proceeds in ways and at a pace that you can accept and even enjoy. It seems that at least one trigger for you is unexpected intimacy – someone suddenly cuddling up with you, a sexy text you weren’t expecting and so on. Having protocols in place to establish when and how someone can touch you or when you’re ready for touch or other forms of intimacy will be extremely useful. So too will be adopting a practice of asking for consent at varying steps and stages. While a partner asking “is it ok if I send you something sexy right now?” might feel a little mechanical or lack the spontaneity many people enjoy, it’s a very small price of entry for, y’know, not accidentally stepping on a landmine and sending you into a trauma response.
I also suspect that there’re a number of folks who might appreciate a check-in-and-make-sure-everyone’s-cool-with-it-first protocol, rather than hoping that they read the moment correctly.
Now, this may mean that physical intimacy in the relationship proceeds at a pace that some folks won’t be down for. That’s ok; those are people who, at the end of the day, aren’t a good match for you. Those are people who would be best served self-selecting out of your dating pool, so that you and they are both free to find partners who are more in tune with your respective needs.
An important thing to remember – and something to establish early on – is that you’re not a project and your partner isn’t there to heal you or fix you. The people you’re likely to be dating aren’t doctors or therapists, and they’re not going to have the training nor the bandwidth to heal your trauma – no matter how much they may want to or wish they could. That’s not their role, and that is an incredibly bad basis for a relationship under the best of circumstances.
This is why “dumping a project on them” doesn’t enter the equation, nor would they be taking one on. While this will require a series of potentially Awkward Conversations tied to defining the relationship, it’ll be important to ensure that you and your potential partners are on the same page and understand where everyone’s roles and places within the relationship begin and end. You will want to make sure that they not only recognize what your limits and challenges are, but to ensure that they aren’t harboring the wrong idea of what they can do for you. They can support you, encourage you, cheer you on and assist where and how they can, in ways that would be appropriate, you’re a person and not a puzzle to be solved or a quest to be completed. Treating you like one, even with the best of intentions, runs the risk of leaving you feel like an object, rather than a person. At best.
Now, I do wonder: have you explored forms of “safe” intimate touch as part of your healing – touch that you not only expect, but that are restricted in ways that don’t risk running up on tripwires or triggers? There are body work specialists – ranging from massage therapist to sexual surrogates – who are trauma-informed and are trained to work with people who have issues similar to yours. While specialists can be hard to find (and often harder to convince insurance to cover), it may be an option worth exploring to help you heal and reduce how triggering physical intimacy can be.
Again, this is assuming that this is something you haven’t already discussed with your therapist or haven’t already explored or rejected as not being something that would be helpful. If it isn’t… well, it may be worth discussing with your therapist.
In the meantime, however, I think putting a lot of the tools you have as a rope top into practice would be invaluable towards finding the sort of relationship you want. While the progress may be slow and the challenges may be many, I think having that framework would make it possible to find the sorts of relationships that would benefit you and help you ease the hunger you feel.
It’s a rough situation to be in, SD, and you have my empathy. But it’s one you’re handling, and I think it says a lot that you’re able to do as much as you do and have come as far as you have. You’re clearly incredibly resilient and have the ability to overcome great fear. That tells me that there’s a lot of reason to remember that hope shines bright.
All will be well.
Dear Dr. NerdLove:
First, some important context: we’re early 20s, and I’m a woman. We matched on Tinder, but were previously acquainted outside of that. I dated a few people for a total of about a year and a half in high school, but haven’t dated since then & tend to be a little timid and slow with these things. He’s heavily implied that he has absolutely no experience.
We’ve been on quite a few dates over the last month or two. Dinner, movie, shopping, studying, the classics. All pleasant, albeit a little awkward at times. It felt like two strangers hanging out, but given that that’s pretty much what we were, I’m not so bothered by that. And it got better over time.
Finally, on the last date we went on, the ice broke. He became less of a stranger who I was curious about, and more of a good friend who I’m maybe curious about in a different way. We talked for a nice, long while, until late at night, and then he offered to walk me to my car, and I thought something finally might happen… and then he stopped short about ten feet away.
So… two months of nice dates, and all we’ve done is brush arms slightly. We barely even flirt. I’m… pretty sure he’s interested? I mean, he keeps agreeing to dates, and that has to mean something, right? lol. I theorize that the issue is that neither of us have a clue what we’re doing. Correct me if you think I’m wrong.
All of my friends think this situation is super weird. Every time we go on a date, they ask if we’ve kissed yet, and every time I say no, they tell me they would have broken it off by now. I don’t mind it as much as my friends seem to think I should, but I can’t tell if he’s completely ignoring that norm because he wants to, because he thinks I want to, or because he doesn’t know it exists at all.
At this point, I’m almost tempted to initiate something myself, but I don’t want to come across as too overeager. I know how I feel, and it’s probably too strongly, honestly. I feel like a damn middle schooler. I feel like I’m already being too forward by texting him unprompted, actively trying to flirt (and probably either making myself look like a dumbass or not doing enough), and asking him on dates.
I don’t want to seem desperate or creep him out (especially if he is truly as inexperienced as he says), but I haven’t been interested in someone in this way in a long time. This is the big question – what do I do to move things forward, or (even better) make him comfortable enough to?
Secondarily, but equally important: let’s say we do actually get to the point of having sex, and he is as inexperienced as he implied (so… no experience). I’m not a virgin by a long shot, but it’s been a while. How do I make that comfortable for all involved? How do I push boundaries without coming across as creepy? How do I make sure I’m not pushing too hard without emasculating him? I feel like most people would assume that he’d just be elated to be there, but I don’t want to discount the possibility that I could accidentally creep on him. If there’s anything else I’m not considering that you think I should, please share.
Thanks!
Ready To Move Forward
It sounds to me like the person you should be talking to about this is the guy you’re dating, RTMF, not me. He’s the one who’s going to know what’s going on in his head the best. And while using your words can feel awkward and uncomfortable in the moment, that awkwardness is momentary, while the relief that comes from resolution and certainty is immense.
Now, were I a betting man, I would be willing to wager that part of the problem is that he may want to make a move, but isn’t sure that it would be appreciated or wanted. He may even not be sure how, if he’s completely inexperienced. And it certainly doesn’t help that we live in a culture that still treats asking for what you want as being less sexy or suave than silently reading the moment and shooting one’s shot.
So with that in mind, I have a question for you, RTMF: have you considered making the first move yourself? Instead of waiting for him to figure it out, you could take a more active role in moving things along – whether it’s subtle encouragement like being willing to take his arm, to move closer to him when you’re walking together or sit down together, or to initiate the first kiss yourself. You could even do the classic 90/10 move, where you move in 90% of the way and allow him to close the last 10% of the distance himself.
Or, alternately, you could just tell him that you want him to kiss you. You could say “you know, this would be a great time for a kiss,” “you could kiss me if you want”, or – a personal favorite – “I’ve been trying hard not to kiss you just now.” Giving him the open and direct all-clear might be enough to break his paralysis and let him know that his interest would not only be accepted but welcomed. Simply knowing that yes, you’re interested and yes you want to take the next step with him may be what clears away this impasse you seem to be in.
It also gives him the opportunity to say “no, I’d rather be friends” or “that’s not what I’m looking for,” if that’s the case.
As for how to handle his first time if he is, in fact, a virgin: what I would suggest is taking things slow, telling him what you would like him to do and asking him what he likes. If he isn’t sure, then asking “would you like me to $DO_THING to you?” or “would you like to $DO_OTHER_THING to me?” can be helpful, as can asking “do you like that?” or “how does this feel?” It would also be helpful to let him know not just how to do things that you like, but to tell him that what he’s doing feels good; part of the anxiety a lot of inexperienced guys have is that not only do they not know what they’re doing, but that they’re doing a bad job of it. Giving him feedback by saying “yes, like that, that’s perfect” when things are going well or a gentle “here, like this, just like this” when he’s not sure what to do can be incredibly helpful and reassuring.
You might also want to let him know that, if it’s his first time, then the focus is going to be mostly on him – that it’s going to be about his experience and his pleasure, rather than his needing to be Studly Good Night for you – can take some of the pressure off. So can letting him know that how fast, slow or what-have-you things go, it’s fine; he’s not going to disappoint you, and you have all the time you need to learn about each other.
Gentle feedback and positive encouragement will go a long way to mitigating any fears or anxieties he may have and help him relax into the moment.
But, and I can’t emphasize this enough, the best thing you can do across the board is talk to him. Whether it’s asking if he wants to kiss you or how he wants to progress, the best thing you can do is to use your words. Your taking the initiative to show that it’s ok to ask will model the sort of behavior that’ll make it easier for the two of you to stop letting the silence get in the way and to actually ensure that you’re on the same page… and make sure that you’re both reading from the same book in the first place.
Good luck.
