My latest piece at the girl-power site Off Our Chests:
The last week was rough for me. In non-sex news, there have been problems with my healing — I broke my neck back in August, and while I was lucky enough to survive without paralysis, it’s a long and complex recovery process, and I recently learned that I’m in worse shape than we thought. So I’ve been in kind of a sad mood. Then, in sex news, a guy I really liked did the Let’s-Just-Be-Friends thing.
Let’s be clear here — I was not even close to officially “dating” this guy. We’d hung out a couple times, and hooked up once. But damn, it was such a hookup. We went to see a ridiculously awesome matinee, and then we literally sat around and talked for 13 hours. Literally. Seriously. After the movie we went for dinner; after dinner we went for coffee; when the coffeeshop closed we went to a bar; we were still talking a mile a minute when the bar closed. This guy is into art, and he’s into feminism, and he’s into all kinds of other esoterica just like me … so it was easy to talk for 13 hours. By the time we actually started making out, it was dawn.
I have to say, though, that I had a gut feeling he was feeling uncomfortable and unsure about … something. I wasn’t sure what. We chatted about S&M and open relationships and all kinds of stuff, and he was cool and interested in all of it, but I still felt that he seemed … unreliable. Thus, partly because I believe in careful and direct communication — and partly because I could tell that he was uncertain — I tried to be very upfront and direct about how I approach relationships. I talked very carefully about my expectations around open relationships, and I encouraged him to talk openly about what exactly he might be into S&M-wise.
So what sucked, when we met for coffee and he did the Let’s-Just-Be-Friends thing, was that he said it was because of how I communicated. He said: “You know, I really like talking to you, and I liked having sex with you, but I feel like you have really high standards for relationship communication and I’m not sure I can meet those standards. Can we keep hanging out, but just be friends?”
On the bright side, he did his best to convince me that he really does want to be friends, so that made me feel good. As usual, though, the rejection still stung. I did my best not to take it personally, but that’s always difficult. I tried to keep in mind that people are different, but sometimes that’s difficult too. For me, the take-home message seemed to be: “Hey Clarisse, quit trying to actually talk openly about your relationships! You’re unnerving even the guys who you have everything in common with.” I mean … Jesus Christ, if I can’t seduce artsy feminist guys, then who the hell can I seduce?
Those of us who teach about sexual communication often hear people say things like: “Direct communication is so hard, there must be ways to get around it,” or “If you talk about sex too directly, you’ll ruin it.” And I do believe that people communicate in many important unspoken ways. I also believe that people play many ambiguous, tacit, flirtatious interpersonal games that are totally fun.
But even though I’ll play those games sometimes … honest and direct communication is also an important facet of my beliefs and my character. I truly believe that they’re the best way to get what you want, and the best way to respect partners’ boundaries.
So, you know … it kinda felt like my core character had been rejected. By someone I really, really like. And also, my neck hurt.
But then!
Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken for 13 hours.
I know you have good taste in men generally, and by all accounts this bloke seems like a good person. But on the rare occasion at my sister or I get rejected by less enlightened individuals (i.e. much less enlightened than the feminist artist you dated) on account of being too sex-positive or transparent about our desires and values, we always say this: “That’s a relief. Our personalities filtered out another narrow-minded prude!” Okay, it sucks to hear that some feminists can’t handle your awesomeness, but I’m glad you shared your thoughts with us. The world would unquestionably be better off if people tried striving for your level of transparency.
Jeez, breaking your neck. That’s terrifying. I’m so sorry, and I wish you a recovery that is as smooth and speedy as possible.
This is so great to read. I’ve been lucky in that all of my partners have appreciated my open communication, both when it comes to sex and relationships. I am not one to play games–I want feelings, likes, and dislikes out in the open. You can still be ambiguous and flirty from there, but I think it’s so much better to be frank and out in the open. It just makes things so much easier. I think a guy or gal) that didn’t appreciate that…well, it might just be a dealbreaker. So good for you!
OOOOOWWWWWW. There is a firm rule (that I just made up) around these parts about breaking bones. It is NOT ALLOWED. Also what EG said.
It’s interesting, but communication style during sex can be something pretty hardwired. I favor open communication about sex/preferences/etc. when not in sexy-times situations, but once I am in the moment, too much overt communication is a turn-off. I’ve tried to get over that, especially since it makes articulating non-standard desires difficult sometimes, but every time either me or my partner is more direct during sex, I just lose interest. Communicating about sex in non-sexual situations is something that I learned to do more clearly and it has definitely benefited me.
This is a really good point. I feel much the same way and in the rare occasion when I do need to say something instructional or serious or moment-ruining during sex I always make sure to use the “safe word” first–so my partner is paying attention and aware that I’m not fooling around. I find that that system works pretty well. Also, I believe in a safe word in general, even if you aren’t engaged in kinky or S&M type activities, for this very reason.
Life is so much easier when both parties are willing to lay it all out on the table. Not only does it save time, it spares the interminable guessing games.
When she says what she says does she mean what she says? What does she really want? What do I say to her? What if I say the wrong thing?
I know this has got to be painful. It’s the close calls for me that are the worst. But if you start out with complete honesty, that sets the stage for the rest of the relationship to follow. This is just my own experience talking.
“…once I am in the moment, too much overt communication is a turn-off.”
Overt communication need not be verbal, though it can be vocal. :-)
True, but I’m not sure that was what was meant.
I need to find that thing on “guess culture” vs “ask culture” and link it.
This is always such a confusing area.
I’m with a woman who finds nothing less appealing or more of a turn off than talking about sex. I mean, talking *during*, that’s fine – but anything to do with, do you want it, do you want it this way, what do you want – she gets annoyed and bored.
I mean, OK, but sometimes the guessing is just…tiring.
I figure, in these situations, if you’re not compatible, you’re not compatible, and finding out earlyish saves time you can spend with people with whom you are compatible. But ohh do I feel you on the twinges of regret, because the talking-for-over-half-a-day thing. That happened to me once, and it’s amazing to have those kinds of sparks with someone. It’s uncanny, it’s like you’ve just peered into a new universe.
And hey, he wants to be friends, and friends are excellent. In my case, too, we ended up just friends. And that was the only way it could be.
Best wishes for upfront communication maybe-possibly-fairy-tale-awesome guy (not to mention for your neck).
After my so very much less than awesome 3 year relationship with a gaslighter I made open, honest communication my hard and fast rule for any relationship, from one night stands on up. It definitely leads to awkwardness, and often. But I just keep telling myself that if someone can’t give me what I need to feel safe and secure, even just for the night, then he might be a great guy but he probably would have been bad for me.
The hardest part is actually holding myself to the standard I hold others to.
I don’t think I communicate super directly “in the moment” very often, actually. I prefer to discuss sexual preferences and such before and after, rather than during. In the moment it’s often difficult to focus on specific questions or have an articulate conversation — sometimes it’s even a bad idea to try and communicate too explicitly during a sexual encounter, if subspace is involved.
God, I need to meet some people like y’all in real life. My honesty is often appreciated, called “refreshing” or something like that, but it is rarely truly understood or reciprocated. And it is often only half-heartedly tolerated, like someone might tolerate a person with an obsessive stamp collecting habit or something. I find I don’t run into a lot of people who value upfront, honest communication, even when they play a little lip service to it. The hell of it is that this allergic-ness to direct communication doesn’t really seem to be any more or less common among any particular sub-group of people, so I don’t know how to hone in on the people I want to talk to.
I have a lot of anxiety about any kind of social interactions (and the more intimate, the more anxious I am), and the only way I can manage it and avoid a freak-out is through direct communication (either having it or at least feeling like I can if I need to). So it’s not even an option for me – if I can’t have open, frank conversation about sex with someone, I’d never be able to have any kind of intimate relationship with them.
I have a straight grrl bestie that runs into this scenario,exactly as you describe down to the 13 hour affinity-a-thon, in a freakishly regular basis -though exclusively with artsy, “feminist”, intelligent guys.
I’m convinced they are just a strain of the PUA/#last of the original nice guys that has evolved in the social petri dish.
The offer of “friendship” invariably reveals itself as an attempt to obtain “benefits” package (as in friends with…) Without having to do the ewww work of communicating and being held accountable. Let sigh. I question the feminism of anyone so averse to communication in their personal lives, particularly as we are so vulnerable to being far shittier in our personal politics/interrelationships as they can often be driven by raw, unfocused energies. Beware the erudite suitor that clams up when it comes to the ACTUAL relations between the two of you.
Gosh I your neck gets better soon!
Yeah, the thought did cross my mind that he might be trying to arrange sex that he didn’t have to communicate about. I choose not to think thoughts like that about him, though. If his behavior later reflects such an intent, I’ll come back to the idea, but for now I’d rather give him the benefit of the doubt.
*gosh I hope your neck gets better soon (dumb swype)
Love that you were able to find affirmation so quickly regarding the value of open communication…sometimes the universe is awesome that way :)
Clarisse, do your (dating, hookup, whatever) partners know you’re a sex-positive feminist blogger/activist with a huge fanbase on the interwebs? It’s hard to believe even your short-term hookup partners don’t suspect you’re big on communication and transparency — y’know, little things like that.
It’s extremely rare that I end up with a partner who doesn’t know about my Clarisse Thorn identity. This guy was not one of those cases.
I was wondering how soon folks you’re interested find out that particular nugget of info? It is interesting to look at when you give them access to the information from a power dynamic perspective. Has the timing been an issue? Like has revealing it too soon as made the blog feel more of an overexposure/vulnerability within the nascent relationship that inhibited any further development?
Which is a long-winded way of asking when do you tell dates? and have you regretted telling too soon? too late?
Is there a difference in the reaction from vanilla versus kinky boys?
Honestly, most people who I know personally find out about Miss Clarisse sooner rather than later, even if I have no sexual interest in them. It’s too big a part of my life to keep under wraps for long … it relates to almost everything (what I do professionally, what I did over the weekend, why I can’t meet tomorrow night, etc). There are also multiple subcultures where I’m known more as Clarisse than as my “real” self, so those people already know who I am from square 1 (there have been situations in which I’d made out with a guy before he found out my real name).
I’ve never regretted telling too soon or too late, although there have been a few situations where I worried that the guy got a little overwhelmed by my writing … not so much by the identity as by my writing itself — the things I say, and how intensely I come across. The guy described in this post, for example, read a few things I’d written right before let’s-just-be-friending me, so it’s possible that his discomfort arose from reading my work as much as talking to me. And my most recent partner texted me after we hooked up that he was glad he hadn’t read my blog previously, because it would have changed his behavior and he thought things went really well as they were. So, I dunno. Clearly the writing is a bit overwhelming. But I don’t hide it. And I always ask for consent before I write about someone, unless (1) I’m quite sure they’re not identifiable or (2) the information I’m writing about is public knowledge. A lot of my partners say I’m more careful on that score than necessary.
more specifically *has feelings of overexposure/vulnerability been an issue for either you or the potential partner?
ahh you answered what I was getting at even before I clarified. You’re writing style is intense in a fabulous way. My gf and I were discussing this post and my take on it was at the end of the day if your focus is communication and consent, then I would always prefer to err on the side of too much info. That most people that know you already know without a big reveal makes sense to me.
She is more risk averse and thinks personal info should be on a need to know basis. We disagree with each other that kink (generally not every specific preference) is “personal” info that should be kept on the DL – I say it’s shaming and reinforces stigma, she disagrees.
She says my radical lezzie feminism requires me to be antiBDSM – I virulently disagree with that as a blanket statement. I say people say similar things about us being out lezzies – that it’s private and we should keep it that way. We then change the subject.
It used to be a lot more important to me to keep my sexuality on the DL. I kept much stronger boundaries around what I was willing to talk about for a long time. It’s been a process.
That said, I am still writing under a pseudonym, so I’m not as out and open as perhaps I “should” be in order to bring the new sexual revolution to everyone’s doorstep :P But there are strong social reasons for me to work under a pseudonym, so.
I figure people work at their own pace when it comes to that kind of openness. Coming out is important for decreasing stigma and shame, and I applaud people who come out to whatever extent they feel comfortable, but I wouldn’t want to pressure people into doing it.
Thanks so much Clarisse – for your brave writing in general and for this specific piece. I had something similar happen to me earlier this year and went through the “omg what is wrong with ME?!” phase, before realising – slowly – (and still sometimes forgetting again) that the same openness which ‘got me rejected’ in this instance is what turns the right people on to me.