Does Sexual Identity Make Physical Attractiveness Less Important?

I’ve been asking myself this question, because I’ve been thinking about the difference in how I’ve seen people relate, and go about dating, in the “vanilla” world versus those who claim a queer or alternative sexuality.  My theory is limited at best, I know, but I think that the more of those badges you put on yourself, and the more corresponding requirements you ascribe to a future relationship or sexual partner, the less of a role physical attractiveness plays (at least, some of the time and for some people).

The thing is, belonging to a subculture does limit your dating pool quite a bit.  When I look for a partner, sexual or otherwise, I’m looking for someone who is queer, interested in genderqueer folk and those who have the vulva-and-breasts combination of body parts, kinky and dominant, poly or open to someone who is non-monogamous, and willing to practice safe sex even in the absence of a penis.  I very rarely meet anyone fitting this description in my day-to-day encounters, and it does mean that a certain amount of talk is required before any sex–but also that I can pretty clearly enumerate at least the basics of what I’m looking for in a sexual partner.

If I contrast this to my experience in the heterosexual, vanilla dating world, I’m struck by how much more physical attraction seemed to enter into the picture there.  Currently, it’s low on the totem pole because the people I’m most physically attracted to are unlikely to line up with the above list of essentials.  Before I had this list in hand, physical attraction was a big part of narrowing down the dating field.  If 50% or so of the population is theoretically available to you (narrowed somewhat due to who’s available for dating/sex, but you’re still probably looking at 5-10% of the population, which is a lot of people), then you need something other than labels or identities to go by.  Of course, you can easily end up with a very attractive person that you’re not compatible with in bed, and this is why I actually kind of like my list, even though I’m not a huge fan of labels.  I’ve had enough sex where I was just mentally hoping and praying to have my hands held above my head, my queerness accepted, any little fragment of sexual desire met.  I think it would be helpful if “vanilla” and “straight” people interrogated their sexual desires and then figured out frank, shorthand ways to find sexual partners based on whatever desires are most important to them.  Maybe if this was the norm–if sex positivity and frank discussion about sex were also the norm–physical attractiveness would be phased out as the assumed method of identifying a potential partner in our society.  And I think that would be a step in the right direction.

Poly Holidays and the Difficulty of Telling Half-Truths

Around the holidays, you tend to get a spike of interest in your family, spurred by that oh-so-popular “what are you doing for Christmas?” question (regardless of your actual religion, I’m guessing the question gets asked).  I find this frustrating because in choosing to only be selectively out about my polyamorous status, it means that I necessarily get stuck telling some lies, and I’m a big truth-teller.  In fact, just being in two relationships has put me very out of synch with my values in some areas, which is uncomfortable.  But the alternative is, of course, being completely open and risking losing job, friends, family, and livelihood.  So I’ll deal with the forced dishonesty.

My coworkers know about Miss H because I told them about “my girlfriend” before Miss A and I were dating.  Most of them know about Miss A as a friend, though it seems like every semester I end up confiding in one intern (the chosen poly truth hearer, ha!)  Telling them about Miss H ends up being a little bit complicated, though, because she has kids, and as was bound to happen eventually, I got hit with the divorce question.  And I stuttered for a moment, since I hadn’t come up with a response to that one in advance, and ended up saying yes.  And it felt awful. Miss H’s husband is awesome, for one thing, and for two, I just don’t like lying. And now, around the holidays, it gets even more complicated, because everyone views Miss H as a single mom and can’t figure out why we wouldn’t be seeing each other, blah blah blah. And when I do get to see Miss A, I can’t be publicly excited about it.  And thus end up feeling, basically, like a rotten person.

So if you’re poly and not fully out, how do you deal with questions like these?  Lie?  Try to tell the truth without telling the truth?  Use the whole “I’m a private person” line?

Relationship Questions: Lessons from Polyamory

One thing I’ve seen a lot around the feminist blogosphere, when talking about relationships, is an emphasis on communication and honesty.  No big surprise here, though feminist bloggers tend to take it a little further than Seventeen magazine, borrowing from the BDSM community, anti-rape activists, and other groups to promote a communication style that’s a lot more explicit (especially about sexuality, but about other topics as well) than what mainstream dating advice sources suggest.

These are my number one principles in relationships as well, and every adult relationship I’ve had (since a good college example of How Not To Do This) has been based on a pretty intense level of openness, honesty, and communication.  Part of what it means to live by those principles is to have frank, up front communications about how a relationship is going, and what the people involved want the relationship to be at the start.

Now, I think this kind of conversation is good to have for anyone, whether poly or monogamous, both at the start of a relationship and as it progresses.  But I was wondering if perhaps monogamous couples might have something to learn from the kind of questions poly people often take for granted in a relationship.

Southern Women and Sexual Communication

It’s difficult for many women to communicate about sex.  No big surprise there.  But is it more difficult for Southern women?

I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer were yes.

Of course, you have the obvious reasons.  Little or no sex education means that people are just assumed to know how to have sex, without talking about it.  Women in particular are taught that talking about sex is shameful and inappropriate.  Southern law discourages any interference in the silent space of the marriage bed–it’s no coincidence that North Carolina was the last state in the country to make marital rape illegal, in the mid 1990s.

But I would posit that Southern manners, good old Southern hospitality, are also to blame for this phenomenon.

Southerners, and especially Southern women, are taught that it is better to be seen and not heard, that one should always defer to a guest, that when something desireable is offered it is polite to say “no, thank you” twice and only accept on the third offering.  I find myself wondering, when thinking about communication and sex, if these general rules on manners might bleed over into how Southern women behave in bed.  If a partner is not insistent on finding out how to please a Southern woman, will she have the courage to ask outright, rather than deferring to the partner’s desires in an instinctual show of politesse?  I think that many of us who were raised as little girls in the South probably inherited this difficulty, whether we have overcome it or not.