Swiping Against Humanity

Recently I decided to give Tinder another chance. As some of you know, I've been resistant about using Tinder, though not out of any reluctance about 'online' dating. I've used all sorts of other dating sites and apps and have met many, many people from them. Hell, I recently even came across an essay someone wrote about the possibility of finding love on Tinder in which they cited an article I wrote to make the case that it is possible to find love on Tinder (of course it is!)

My reluctance to use Tinder was largely about it being linked to Facebook. I don't like that it shows my real name as I'd rather choose if that's something I'd like to disclose to someone or not. Yes, I know it's just my first name, but how many Joni's do you know? I've come to realise that other people aren't necessarily as good at finding people online as I am, but that also means I know exactly how easy I am to find.

But I've moved past that and have come to appreciate the way potential matches show up with their links (or lack of links) to my social network. It's fun to see the different configuration of friends that pop up and get a bit of insight into the kinds of people they might be friends with (though obviously Facebook friendships signal a very wide variety of relationship types).

I rejoined Tinder after a very busy week. I had a short turn around time to mark a bunch of student assignments, plus a surprise job interview that included doing a short presentation on my research. By the time I'd gotten through all of that, I just wanted to lie in bed and do nothing for a bit. So, feeling disheartened by the options available on OKC, and being between jobs and low on cash, I decided to give Tinder another go.

At first it was fun, getting to snoop into this little window of people's lives, looking for common connections, sharing and comparing the profiles I'd come across with friends for a laugh, coming across people I actually know, and fervently swiping through people I didn't to try and get to the profiles of those I did. Swiping became a way to occupy my time, a cheap source of entertainment that occasionally resulted in a conversation with a stranger that I actually wanted to engage in. And after finding out I didn't get the job, swiping became a reprieve from dealing with the realities of my life (which are improving, but, the semester break has been tough!)

Which is how I ended up spending about 24 hours swiping left.

This was not a great experience. In fact, it left me feeling quite gross and I've avoided going onto Tinder pretty much since then (though I will go back to it eventually).

I found myself swiping left for the usual reasons like no profile text, profile text consists of telling women how they should be, only body shots, hanging out with sedated tigers (although this seems to have been largely replaced with meditating under a waterfall), being 'down to earth' or 'easy going' or 'normal', only having pictures with groups of people, being at the Melbourne Cup, drinking in all the pictures, being a backpacker (though certainly I've used dating apps while traveling to hook up with the locals), working in finance, being really into motorcycles or race cars, or identifying as a sapiosexual. And I discovered a few new reasons to swipe left: being a 'lifestyle' coach, "never judge a book by its cover" profiles, playing hide and seek in a Holocaust memorial, carrying around the recently severed head of a large animal, and giving oneself hero status for stopping a 'junkie' from stealing meat.

I know that this is a matter of judgement, and these are things I find unappealing that other people may think are perfectly reasonable. What made me feel gross was that I had to actively pass this judgement on all these people. The thing is, Tinder shows you people you would quite possibly otherwise never come into any real sort of contact with. And this is good and bad because while it shows you people who are interesting, to get to them you've got to go through all the people you'd never, ever want to meet. And it's not like these people aren't on other dating sites too, but with OKC for instance it shows you what your match percentage is with another person and has ways of filtering out those you're unlikely to be compatible with.

To it's benefit though, people can't contact you unless you match with them. And after getting streams of messages on OKC from guys who seem to think their showing an interest in you is some sort of favour for which you now owe them, this is a very nice feature! Unfortunately, matching with someone is no guarantee that they will behave any differently once they have the opportunity to message you. As I found out from the guy who ignored my ambivalence about the conversation taking a turn for the sexual, and then demanded I send him wank bank material.

I've yet to actually meet anyone off of Tinder, which is surprising to me because I have been meeting people 'from the internet' (which, seriously, it's 2016, we're all people from the internet now) for over a decade. I think this has to do with, well, my tendency to use it for a few days and then disappear, but also with the affordances of the app. It lends itself well to casual conversations, and I honestly have enjoyed having the odd chat to a stranger who I probably wouldn't otherwise interact with. But the profile section doesn't include any sort of prompts and the culture of the app is not to write a long description about yourself and what you're interested in finding (though some people do).

Connections are meant to develop over a few pictures and a few words. Which obviously works well enough for people as Tinder has completely changed the face of 'online' dating (for heterosexuals anyways, and like pretty much everything else that change is owed to the gay community for developing Grindr). But for me, and at least for some of the people I've matched with, it means putting in a lot of work to get a sense of if there's any sort of connection there. Whereas with OKC because of the structured profiles and the huge array of personality questions, there's more to go off of when you contact someone. I can tell pretty quickly if I'm interested in meeting up with someone from OKC or not.

Obviously it all depends on what you're looking for and how you like to engage with people. Right now I'm open to the possibility of meeting people, but not really actively looking to do so. So maybe some of those casual conversations that have started will gradually build up enough for me to determine if I'd like to actually meet the person, and maybe they won't. And maybe there is a Tinder love story to be had, but I don't think fervently swiping through profiles to find it is worth the hassle.


A Special Bonus Feature For You, Dear Reader...

As you know, I believe in supporting and cultivating the feline arts. Aspiring blogger Tilly has written some of her thoughts, which I have included for you below. I'm sure you will agree that this young talent has a promising career ahead of her!

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The Seance 2.0

I've recently started to re-engage with my PhD data. Unlike how I usually describe it, my PhD is probably best summarised as looking at the ethics of relationship negotiation within new media environments. While my research wasn't looking at my life, my life certainly looked at my research! Going back to that data, while being single and occasionally submitting myself to the torture of dating, has got me thinking. About ghosting.

For the unfamiliar, ghosting is the practice of seemingly disappearing into thin air. It usually happens before people have even met; you're chatting away to someone on a dating app and then suddenly they just disappear. Or they just stop replying to your messages. It also happens in the early stages, where after going out on a date or two contact suddenly stops. But really, it can (and does) happen at any stage of a relationship. All of a sudden, somebody just disappears.

To be clear, I am not against ghosting. I have experienced it plenty of time, both as the ghoster and the ghostee. It is certainly not the ideal way to end contact with someone, but seriously, when do people actually behave ideally?

New media technologies (which is an awful term... they're hardly new, but anyways, it's the one I'm sticking with for now) have not so much changed the types of relationships people have, but have created a hypervisibility and contactability. And this has at least changed the potential ways people can engage with each other.

The phenomena of ghosting is hardly new. People have been fucking off without saying a word forever, so let's not start with the whole "OMG kids today don't know how to interact like proper people" bullshit. I mean, hello, the whole "He just went down to the shop for a bottle of milk" trope. What is new is the potential to conduct digital surveillance upon one's ghost.

I could talk about the ethical implications of this, the ways in which people could behave to achieve some sort of idealised niceness around the awkwardness of ending relationships, in their various guises. I won't. Because, post PhD, current living in the actual world of being a single woman, I don't believe promoting an ideal is the way to go.

The other night I had drinks with a friend who is also using Foucault's later work in his PhD. We had what was for me a very liberating conversation about Foucault's neoliberalism. We acknowledged that, at the end, he turned to neoliberalism. Not as a wholehearted embrace, but as something which could be queered and co-opted into leading an ethical life.

The downside of this, which came out in my PhD findings (probably not as eloquently as I would like) is that the ethical framework he describes can be used in hugely unethical ways. When you develop this acute understanding of how power operates within your interpersonal relationships, you're faced with this red pill/blue pill situation. Do you use this knowledge to promote equality within your relationships, or do you use it to get what you want? That choice is up to the individual, and while Foucault is often said to be encouraging the even distribution of power, I think the reality is more complex than that. I think he was maybe a bit more OK with letting the world burn than is usually discussed. But that's a rather undeveloped critique best left for another forum another time.

As the night continued, my friend and I discussed our various experiences of dating and the complications that arise in negotiating relationships and feelings and that desire to not be a dick. And, of course, how to manage the situation when the other person turns into a dick. For me, this is where that desire not to promote an idealised niceness comes in. This is where I see Foucault with his matchstick burning shit down.

There is a huge discourse surrounding dating etiquette, in general, and a growing body of opinions/advice on how to deal with dating in new media environments. But telling people what to do is not the answer. People deal with shit differently, and saying things like "cyberstalking your ex is unhealthy and you are bad at doing breakups" is really unhelpful. Who is this person who is good at doing breakups? A sociopath?? Breakups are shitty and awful and they hurt, and there is no reason why being ghosted by someone you've never met should hurt less than the end of a long term relationship. Life is not linear or simple and the idea that we should all just be nice is ridiculous.

Despite my actual, certified recognition as an expert on relationship negotiation, I am constantly turning to my friends any time I have to deal with negotiating pretty much any aspect of a dating type relationship. Because there is no rule book; nor should there be. How people relate to one another is going to be unique to the context of that relationship and trying to fit it into some external framework is only going to cause everyone involved grief. That much I can put my stamp of expertise on.

Recently, I've had a lot of contradictory advice given to me, and this is why I think it's problematic to promote some sort of standard of how people should interact with one another. It is easy to get lost in these discourses about what you should and should not do. I found in listening to all these other voices that I was both losing myself and losing sight of the context of what I was negotiating. I was getting caught up in these external judgments (which may or may not have actually been happening) over how I was behaving. I was ignoring what my own needs are and how best, for me, to meet them.

How we use new media technologies, individually, in our negotiations of relationships is going to produce different things for different people in different contexts. There is no magical singular way to behave that will mean everyone is nice to one another and nobody gets hurt. And one person's strategy for mitigating the hurt they cause to somebody might actually be perceived as quite harmful by somebody else. The best we can do is engage authentically with ourselves and those around us, and, because we can't avoid hurting people, be accountable for what we do.

This brings me to the seance, which I am defining as the attempts at contacting someone who has ghosted you. Again, I place no judgement onto the seance, or onto the ghost's response or lack there of. Because while there is a need to be accountable to the person you've hurt, that need does not come at the expense of yourself. It's a tricky thing, negotiating that desire not to be a dick with what can sometimes be a legitimate need to be kind of a dick. I don't think there is a right or wrong way to manage this conflict. At the end of the day, you're the one who has to live your life. You're the one faced with the consequences of your actions. So you're the one who gets to choose.

I cannot overstate how much I am saying there is no overarching right or wrong here. The only advice I'll give is this: think your actions through and do what's best for you.

I Should Have Left You Long Ago (But I Stayed)

A couple of weeks ago I somewhat unexpectedly found myself unemployed. While it's a temporary loss of income, it's unclear how long it'll be. This left me frantic and stressed and scrambling to find work. Any work. OK, almost any work. Finding something casual and temporary has proved difficult. And while I haven't given up hope, I've realised it's more practical for me to be putting my energy into finding new work in my field, even if it means forgoing an income for a little bit.

As stressful as this has been, having this time has made me realise how badly I needed a break. It's not exactly ideal to be taking a forced, unpaid, break, but, it's made me spend some time taking stock of my life.

Some other things have happened as well, one of those being that I finally let go of a relationship that I'd held on to for too long. You see, I've got a long history of staying in relationships for longer than I should. In fact, if my life was a Country Western song it'd be called 'I should have left you long ago (but I stayed)'.

Walking away wasn't easy (or pretty). It was painful and messy and left me with some things to process. Fortunately for me, I've also got plenty of time to sit and reflect on how I got myself into that mess and why I stayed for so long.

What I realised is, the year before I met my ex was insane. There was so much big life stuff happening, and on top of that lots of ridiculous bullshit stuff that I was responsible for dealing with, that I'd just been surviving in crisis mode. There were health issues, housemate issues, housing issues, relationship issues, family issues, thesis issues, friend issues, work issues, money issues, immigration issues... At baseline my life was pretty stressful, but there was always some additional thing I also had to deal with. And every time I'd overcome whatever calamity had arisen, a new one emerged.

Things were finally starting to settle down for me when I moved into my own place. My housing issues were coming to an end, as were the housemate issues. Work was stabilizing, my income was fairly steady, my health was improving, my thesis was being examined, I had a plan of action for my immigration stuff, my family and friends were alright, and I was single and excited about getting to be single in my own place. I hadn't quite gotten the balance back into my life of focusing on myself, but it was on the horizon.

A week after moving into my new place, I met someone. I hadn't planned on it becoming a thing, I wasn't looking for it to become a thing, but it became a thing. He was handsome and charming and after what had been a very difficult year, a perfect distraction from dealing with my own life.

So I focused on him and on our relationship and for awhile, forgot about myself. It didn't last though, the distracting myself from myself. Once the magic wore off, my life was still a mess and I had the added burden of an unsupportive partner to deal with.

There were some practical reasons for why I stayed longer than I should have. But mostly it was fear. Not fear of being alone; I've been single most of my adult life and know that that's quite a comfortable and fun place for me to be. No, the fear was of having to deal with the mess my life had become. I wanted someone to hold my hand, to tell me it was going to be OK. But what that resulted in was actually me holding myself back.

I've said it before, and I suspect it's a lesson I'm going to keep re-learning for a long time: life is much easier once you let go and just face the fear.

It's been hard. It's been really hard. And it's going to continue to be hard for awhile to come. But having the chance to get back in touch with myself is worth all the hardship that's made it happen. Being forced to take a step back, I feel like I can see clearly again. It's still early days, but I've got a much better sense of what I want for myself and what I don't. I can see the parts of my life that were allowing me to grow, and the things that were holding me back. I am coming up with a plan of action for how I want to live my life now. I am thinking about ways to rebuild that will allow me to have the balance that has so sorely been lacking for far too long.

For starters, I need to get back to writing.

Deconstructing Relationships

I used to believe in soul mates. I carried around this rather depressing view that there is only One True Love for everyone, and that not everyone is lucky enough to find their soul mate in their lifetime. I used to believe this quite strongly, and I still find this ideology lurking in the back corners of my mind every time I find myself falling in love.

Let's not mince words. The idea of 'soul mates' is fucked up! It perpetuates this false hierarchy of romantic love being better/greater than any other form of love, which then gives people excuses to behave like horrible human beings to the other important people in their lives (I've just finished watching the entire Twilight saga, and Bella Swan I am appalled!). And it creates this vicious cycle of rather unnecessary pain when a romantic relationship ends. It's hard enough saying goodbye to a relationship with someone you've cared about... having that ending imbued with these bullshit ideologies that either a) the love you experienced in that relationship was not as grand as it could have been, or b) that you will never experience a love as grand again... Can we all see how incredibly unhealthy that is?

While I don't think I've ever officially outed myself as a nonmonogamist, it's no secret that I'm not big on monogamy. Like with my sexual identity, it's one of those things where I had the feelings and ideas, but not the language or the conceptual framework to make sense of it for a long time. It's really only been in the past couple of years that I've started to explore what alternate ways of doing relationships can mean.

For a long time I've envisioned myself - my future, adult self - as a fairly independent person who is not tied down to a single, committed relationship, but who has intimate friendships and sexual relationships with lots of different people around the world. And when my last relationship ended, I decided it was time to become the future me that I have longed to be. The funny thing is, after making that decision I pretty quickly realised I already am.

When I was at the IASSCS conference in Buenos Aires, I was introduced to the term 'Relationship Anarchy'. This concept appeals to me because it does away with the idea of relationship hierarchies and acknowledges the value in all different types of relationships. It is a thoroughly queer way of relating! What appeals to me most about this concept is quite beautifully described on The Thinking Asexual blog (linked to above):

What relationship anarchy hinges on the most, for me, is the equality it seeks to create across the relationship board, so that sexual relationships are not superior to nonsexual relationships and “romantic” relationships are not superior to nonromantic friendships, and that equality means that a nonsexual and/or nonromantic friend has the same amount of access to love, intimacy, physical affection, support, etc. That means a nonsexual/nonromantic friend is just as likely to become an RA’s life partner or one of their life partners. Relationship anarchy provides the kind of respect, security, opportunity, equality, and love that a celibate asexual needs, especially if they are single or they’re not necessarily looking for just one romantic life partner to fulfill all of their major needs in a traditional romantic relationship.

When I think about my life and how I have done relationships, this is what I see. I see the friendships I have had that have provided me with more support (emotionally and materially) than any romantic or sexual relationship ever has. I see the joy (and the pain) that romantic connections have provided me. I see the fun and the playfulness that my sexual relationships have given me. And I see that all of these things overlap; that their boundaries are not clear and that I don't want them to be clear.

The most obvious example of Relationship Anarchy in my life is my relationship with my BFF. Thus far, that has not been a sexual relationship, but it's been pretty much every other kind of relationship. We used to jokingly refer to each other as our life partners, but that's stopped being a joke. That is what we are. We love each other, we support each other, we accept each other for the flawed individuals we both are, we challenge each other to grow, we even go out on cute dates. Our relationship will never be exclusive; we will never limit each other's ability to connect with and develop relationships of any type with other people. We will always be of importance to one another, even though we may not always be the 'primary' person in each other's lives.

I think that there is too much emphasis placed upon the form a relationship takes, and not enough emphasis upon the content. Increasingly, I am trying to focus on what it is that I get from my different relationships that I enjoy. What pleasure do I derive from having someone in my life? I am trying to acknowledge what that is more, even if only to myself. And in doing so, I am hoping to make myself more open to the possibilities of those relationships expanding. To finding support, to being nurtured, to giving, to growing. Instead of saying "Oh, I don't have a boyfriend/girlfriend!" and looking for that type of relationship, I am thinking about what ways of relating I feel are missing from my life and considering how I can fulfill my emotional needs for those particular kinds of relating.

For instance, currently I have a longing to have a connection where I can be both emotionally and sexually vulnerable. There are people in my life that I am emotionally vulnerable with, and people I am sexually vulnerable with (being vulnerable is a good thing, btw, perhaps a topic for another day!); but it is harder to find somebody who can offer me both of these things, on an ongoing basis anyways. (Life is complicated! Getting two adults to sort their shit out so they can build something together is actually a pretty big ask.) While I want to have that kind of a connection with somebody, I don't need for them to be my 'partner'. And I certainly don't need for us to share our emotional/sexual vulnerabilities with each other exclusively! There is no reason for that connection to be the most important connection in my life; it is just one of many ways of connecting, and happens to be a connection I currently don't have but would like to have.

The thing is, life is fluid. Relationships shift and change, and the emphasis we place on any relationship does not stay constant for the duration of the relationship; especially in long term relationships! To illustrate, I have one close friendship that is over 20 years old. At times that friendship has been pretty central to my life, and at other times it has been peripheral. The content of our friendship has certainly changed as we've gone through life! We started out as quite different people, found ourselves leading parallel lives for awhile, and are now pretty much polar opposites of each other. This friendship has remained important to me, but of course its role in my life is different now. How we can offer each other support is different now. This friendship has less emphasis in my life, less energy put into it, right now. Because it's not what either of us needs right now. And that will change as it needs to.

I think that people get that about friendships, but act like it is somehow different when it is a romantic/sexual relationship. But why would it be? Emotions might be felt more intensely in a romantic/sexual relationship, but they are not somehow immune to the ebb and flow of life and individual needs. When two people decide to commit to each other in a romantic/sexual relationship, it is not as if they suddenly become one person; they are still two separate individuals with unique emotional needs and life circumstances. They are both on their own life journeys, even if they are each other's travel companions.

As I said at the start of this blog, I am not immune to the ideology of One True Love. I do not think that forming romantic/sexual partnerships is a bad thing, nor do I think that it is bad for that type of relationship to be of primary importance in a person's life. I think it is incredibly problematic to idealise that type of relationship though; to treat someone as if their life is incomplete for not having that type of relationship in it.

I don't know how I'll feel the next time I find myself falling in love. I think it will be different, because I am redefining what relationships mean for me and look like in my life. I have stopped looking for particular types of relationships. Instead, I like to meet new people and just see what develops with them. What sort of chemistry do we have? What can we share with one another? What journey will we go on together? I have found that this has made me open to a lot of different possibilities and has lead to some really beautiful experiences.

Along with forming relationships in new ways, I am also trying to engage with them differently when they end. I like to focus on what was good about the relationship. What pleasure did that person bring to my life? What joy? What did I learn from them? How did I grow? I am choosing to honour those memories, to think kindly of the relationships that are no longer in my life. To remember their beauty and to let them go, thanking them for what they gave to me for however long that lasted. I think we focus too much on the pain and the hurt when relationships end, and that's not helpful. I try to remember that all relationships are temporary, even if they last a really long time. Focusing on the good doesn't make the hurt go away, but it helps. Because any amount of beauty and joy that something brings to your life is a positive thing.

The Q in Alphabet Soup

Apparently yesterday (or today, depending on your time zone) was International Bisexuality Visibility Day. Personally, I'm not a fan of the term 'bisexual' and I cringe every time it's applied to me. It feels dated and incredibly limiting; 'bi' implies a duality and when it comes to gender and sexuality, there are a helluva lot more than two options! Also, I feel like it's an identity that has been co-opted by this fantasy whereby bisexual ladies (and their nubile friends) are seen as eagerly available to fulfill all your sexual desires.

I don't say this to be dissing on any bisexuals. If that's how you prefer to identify, that's up to you. I'd be interested in having a conversation about why bi, though, given that 'queer' and 'pansexual' are also well established options (though I have an uneasy relationship with pansexual too because I feel like it presents all sexual desire as being on an even field and is therefore quite reductionary of sexual desire).

I identify as queer. Queer is something of a catch-all phrase, though not in the way it is often used! While you can say that a lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, intersex, etc identity is a 'queer' identity, each of these categories are identity categories onto themselves - and contain their own plethora of subcultures and ways of being which may or may not be 'queer'. What I'm trying to say is, these categories are overlapping, yes, but distinct. A lesbian is not necessarily queer. And yes, my eye does start to twitch every time I hear someone using the term queer interchangeably with other identity categories in the rainbow flavoured alphabet soup.

The reason that queer is a catch-all phrase, and why I identify with it so strongly, is because it is about a lot more than who you fuck. Sure, that's a part of it, but you can be staunchly heterosexual and still be queer. Queer is about critically engaging with the politics of gender, sexuality, and relationships. For a start. I'd say it's also about engaging with the politics of class and race, but as a middle class white woman whose academic focus has tended to be on other middle class white people, I'm going to leave that discussion for people who actually know what they're talking about. (Sometimes I feel like it's narcissistic to be so focused on deconstructing myself. But, firstly, it's my blog and I'll do what I want with it! And secondly, the only thing I can really claim to be an expert on is myself.)

So, to clarify, I feel that it is incorrect to identify as 'queer' on the sole basis of having sex with someone of the same gender as yourself. Being queer is about challenging 'normativity'. You know, that thing where women and men are supposed to like each other and get married (to each other) and be monogamous and have babies. And that thing where boys and girls look and act in certain ways, and those ways are different from one another. Or, you know, the idea that certain ways of doing or learning or creating are more valid or productive or useful than others.

The reason all this is on my mind as of late is because my life underwent a pretty big change a couple months ago, and it's taken me down a rather unexpected path. My girlfriend and I broke up, and I decided to start seeing men. It's...complicated and I don't fully understand how I went from being adamantly disinterested in men and happily committed to a beautiful woman to falling out of love with said woman and becoming happily uncommitted to some wonderful men. But it happened fast. Or, it didn't. At any rate, the turn around from being devastated about the breakup to being really fucking happy with my life happened incredibly fast.

Have I magically turned straight? No, definitely not. Am I still into women? Yes...no...I don't know. After a 7 year hiatus from men it's just feeling really nice to be in the company of men. This whole thing has left me with more questions than answers, but, for the most part I feel like the answers to the questions I've got are pretty much irrelevant. As long as the answer to the question "Am I happy?" is "Yes." Which it is.

Which is funny, because, for a long time I felt like I couldn't be happy with men. Because 7+ years ago I was really, very unhappy being with men. But... a lot has changed. What I realise now is that it wasn't men, as such, that I was unhappy with, but heteronormativity. The expectation that I would conform to particular ways of being gendered, sexual, and in a relationship did not sit easy for me. Especially in Calgary, which, in case you didn't know, is a very conservative place! Nonconformity isn't exactly encouraged in Calgary.

But, I've spent the better part of past decade gradually developing my queerness and now feel quite comfortable to be myself - in all my normative and non-normative glory - across all my relationships; be they with friends, family, colleagues, lovers, strangers, housemates, or service providers. My relationships with men now are quite different from before. For starters, they occur on my terms or they don't occur at all. I feel quite free, actually. Even more so than when I was just dating women. Because now, other person(s) consenting, I can have whatever kind of relationship I want with whomever I want. My reflections on queering relationships and the problem with monogamy are probably best left for another day though!

I will just say this: I really am happily uncommitted. And I really do feel free. I'm very nearly finished my PhD, and I have absolutely no idea what kind of a journey that's going to take me on. It was wonderful to have a partner for a good chunk of this last push to finish my thesis; I will forever be thankful to my ex for the support she gave me in what was a very difficult and trying period of my life. A lot of the happiness I feel now I owe to her - both for being with me and for breaking up with me. I want to be focused on myself now. I want to be able to pursue whatever interesting opportunities come my way in this next phase of my (professional) life, without having to negotiate that with another person. And I'm very thankful that I get to do that.

Entitlement

About a month ago Trouble and I met up for a rainy afternoon breakfast stack at one of our favourite cafes and had a good, long, intellectual talk about Life Stuff. She was telling me that on her way to meet up with me a car full of men had been yelling and honking to get her attention. When she finally realised they were honking at her, for no other reason than to express their sexual interest in her, she was pretty pissed off and told them to fuck off. As well she should! This is a frighteningly common experience for women. But what is really frightening is how bad women are made to feel about themselves when it happens.

Welcome to slut shaming 201. Today's topic is 'entitlement', or more specifically (since there are more forms of entitlement than I can shake a stick at) sexual entitlement. There is a part of me that wants to qualify that further and say male sexual entitlement, but this is a problem that is more complicated than simply being men's fault. Blaming men for entitlement isn't really any better than blaming women for rape. Patriarchy and misogyny know no gender bounds.

So what is sexual entitlement? It is the belief that a person's sexual desire for another person gives them the right to that person's body/mind/time. At this point I feel that it is important to note that while feelings of sexual entitlement are not exclusively the purview of men, given that men continue to have social dominance over women (broadly, yes I know this is not always the case) it is much more problematic when men feel sexually entitled to women's bodies/minds/time. It is also much more common that this is how sexual entitlement plays out.

The problem, as I see it, is that when it comes to sexuality, women are set up to fail. There is no possible way for women to 'win' if they play along with the patriarchy's rules. No matter what the situation, men's sexual desires trump women's. Three heterosexual examples (since I hate binaries and want to guide you gently through my argument; I will queer it up a bit later in this post) to illustrate my point:

1) A woman who abstains from sex until marriage, then marries a loving, respecting man is still expected to satisfy her husband's sexual desires over her own. She may be able to negotiate having her desires met, but there is no social expectation that her husband would have to negotiate getting his desires met.

2) A woman goes out to a party with the expressed intent of having casual sex. When she picks up a guy, there is a sexual script already in play that dictates the satisfaction of his sexual desires. If she is lucky, he will also satisfy her's. But again, there is no expectation on him to do so.

3) A woman walks into a brothel looking to buy the sexual services of a man. If she's done her research, she's gone into a brothel that actually provides such a service. If not, she may be met with ridicule and/or homophobia. Or maybe the brothel staff will be friendly and point her in the right direction. At any rate, she can't just walk into any brothel and purchase sexual service. I am not aware of the existence of any brothel that absolutely does not provide service to men.

Given that men's sexual desires hold more social value than women's, it is not surprising that sexual entitlement is so prominent. And unquestioned! I started writing this blog a month ago, and in that time I've been noticing sexual entitlement everywhere I look. In an earlier draft of this blog I had a long list of examples of times I've encountered something similar to the anecdote I started this blog with. I think most women could come up with a few personal examples pretty easily if you asked them. I'm not going to list off my experiences here, as I've decided to go in a bit of a different direction with this post, inspired by a recent night out with my siblings in Kelowna. I want to talk about what I think men don't realise; I want to talk about what happens to women when they encounter sexual entitlement.

I'm currently in Canada, visiting family, old friends, and working on my thesis. Right now I'm in Kelowna, soaking up the last of the summer sun. Last weekend, two of my siblings were out here with me and we decided to go have a bit of a night out on the town. I wasn't crazy about the first pub we went to; it was loud and very heteronormative (that is, everyone was heterosexual and seemed to be aspiring to social standards of 'normal'). We headed off to another pub where there was a local band playing. The crowd was still pretty hetero, but less normative. I was excited to find that not only was I not the only lesbian in the place, but the other lesbian was pretty darn cute!

I thought that she was there with a straight couple, but as the night went on I discovered that she was there with a female friend who some guy was hitting on (I discovered this, btw, when said guy tried to stick his hand down my shirt while giving me a very unsolicited hug - that's a very obvious example of sexual entitlement that I hope my readers don't need me to further deconstruct). When I told my brother that I thought the lesbian was really cute, he encouraged me to go talk to her. I said nah and continued to sit and listen to the band, occasionally glancing over towards the cute girl.

As the night went on and the cute girl made her way to the dance floor, my brother dragged me onto the dance floor and tried to push me over to go and 'mac on' the girl. At that point, I got really angry with him and told him if he didn't back off I would punch him. He backed off and I was left to scratch my head about why I reacted so strongly to him trying to be my wingman.

I'm not shy about hitting on girls. I like the chase and while I don't always initiate, I'm pretty upfront about my interest. Chances are, if you're wondering if I'm into you or not, I'm probably not into you.

Eventually, I realised what was bothering me about my brother's approach: it reeked of sexual entitlement. It seemed that for my brother, my thinking the girl was cute was reason enough for me to go talk to her. In this framing, my desire for her gave me the right to access her mental/physical/emotional space - or at least the right to try. But for me, having been on the receiving end of unwanted sexual attention far, far, too many times, I didn't feel that my desire for this woman gave me any right to her at all.

I think that there is this big misconception that being hit on is a nice experience. Sure, it can be nice. If you want it to happen. But if you don't, it can be horrible. Even if the person doing the hitting on isn't horrible; even if they are, in fact, pleasant, it can still be a horrible experience. This is because of the social protocol that deems it rude not to talk to someone when they initiate a conversation with you, and the gender differential that is at play. For a man to blow someone off, he is simply being rude in that instance. If a woman does it, even once, she is forever a bitch.

Women face a lot more social pressure than men to engage in conversations with anyone who decides to talk to them - whether they want to or not. This means, when you hit on a woman, she may not be talking to you because she wants to, but because she is socially obliged to! So please, everybody, think about that the next time you decide to strike up a conversation with a woman, whatever your intent.

The reason I didn't want to go up to this woman and strike up a conversation with her was that while I was sitting at my table watching her, she wasn't watching me back. I wasn't leering at her, but I also wasn't being subtle about the fact that she had caught my eye. If she had been interested in me, it would have been easy for her to make eye contact with me. That she didn't told me that she just wanted to hang out with her friend and enjoy the night, and I can (and did) respect that.

I did contemplate doing one of my favourite moves: the toilet queue chat. There is a lot of solidarity about women's toilets and the secret business that goes on in them. It is quite easy and acceptable to strike up a conversation with someone while waiting for the toilets, and it is also a space that if you are not interested in talking, it's easy and safe to signal your disinterest in a conversation. It's a great way to break the ice with someone and get a sense of if they are interested in having a chat or not. Of course, a willingness to have a chat does not equate a desire to be hit on; it's more that if they're not interested in talking to you in the toilets, they're not interested in talking to you. As I didn't have the chance to try this move, and she had not paid me any particular attention, I felt it would be incredibly presumptuous of me to strike up a conversation with her on the dance floor.

The thing with sexual entitlement - and entitlement in general - is, I think a lot of people are really unaware of when they are acting from a place of privilege, and how that privilege impacts on others. And I also don't think that people are aware of the accumulative affect of entitlement. Because, yeah, a single instance of a bit of unwanted flirting is probably not going to cause someone a great deal of grief. But while it might be a single instance for the person doing the flirting, chances are it's not a single instance for the person on the receiving end. Your single instance may just be the straw that broke the camel's back.

I remember my straw. Back when I worked in an adult store, I had a guy come in one day and tell me that I looked very pretty. He wasn't being lewd or particularly aggressive, and his comment was incredibly tame compared to many of the other men who felt they had some sort of right to comment on me as a sexual being when they came into the store. His comment would have been sweet if it had come from someone I trusted. But he was an older man, a stranger, and the only other person in the store with me, and I did not feel safe being alone in the store - in the middle of the day - with a man who felt it was not only acceptable but innocuous to sexualise me.

I'm not the kind of person to let something like that slide, so I informed him that I did not find his comment appropriate. This made matters much worse because then he felt like he needed to justify himself, and the only way he could do this was by vilifying me. There was nothing wrong with him and what he did; it was my problem, my fault that I couldn't "take a compliment." If I didn't want to be complimented on my appearance, I shouldn't put any effort into looking professional. Nevermind that my employers required it of me, or, more importantly, that it made me feel good about myself. Apparently the only reason a woman puts any effort into her appearance is to invite the attentions of men, and she should be damn grateful when she gets them! Eventually he left the store. I ended up quitting my job - which I loved - over this, and how the company refused to deal with it.

This is what happens when we construct reality in terms of binaries: a person's disinterest in someone's sexual advances becomes a personal insult. When a person is insulted, they have to defend themselves, usually by pointing out how the other person is wrong to be insulted. There is a term for this, it's called 'victim blaming'.

But why should a person's disinterest in someone's sexual advances be taken personally? I wasn't personally insulted when the woman at the bar didn't show any interest in me. I don't actually think it has anything to do with me. She wasn't looking, and it would be insulting of me to assume that she should be.

Confrontation makes a lot of people uncomfortable. I think there's this cultural assumption that women are a lot more uncomfortable with confrontation than men are, but I think if that was true then slut shaming and victim blaming wouldn't even be things. These are tool that are used against women (by men and women) to uphold sexual entitlement. Because it's when women stand up for themselves - when they are confrontational - that they risk encountering slut shaming and/or victim blaming.

Let me take a step back here to talk about our social understandings of how women are meant to negotiate sex. On the one hand, women are told - ad nauseam - to just say 'no' to sex. On the other hand, women are told that they are horrible people if they reject someone. You know, because it is a woman's job to make everyone else feel good about themselves and nevermind about how she feels about herself. So when a woman is faced with a sexual advance, she's faced with a catch-22 situation. She's not meant to say yes because that makes her a slut, but if she says no she'll hurt the other person's feelings and that makes her a bitch. What to do, what to do? For a lot of women, the result is a complex game of avoidance.

Going back to my experience at the adult shop, it was the very innocuousness of that man's comment that made the experience so upsetting for me. He was paying me a compliment; and as he was not in clear violation of social norms, he could not understand why I would be upset by his compliment. It was much easier to deal with men who knew they were overstepping their bounds because they understood that if they didn't respect my 'no' they were in the wrong. Their actions may have been a lot more explicit, but my rights to be offended by their actions were also a lot clearer.

It's these smaller experiences that are a lot harder to avoid, and a lot harder to negotiate. I feel like there is some sort of confrontation/entitlement binary/blind spot happening in society. Some people feel that they are entitled to make sexual advances onto others, but then forget that the person they make the advance on is entitled to tell them to fuck off. And when they get told to fuck off, they feel like how dare this person feel entitled to put them in a confrontational situation, but ignore the fact that it was actually them who put the other person in a confrontational situation - and what right did they have themselves to do that?

I feel like I'm starting to spin out here, so hopefully I'm not losing you along the way. The point that I'm trying to make is, I don't think people are often aware of when they are putting someone into a confrontational situation. And I think that women get put into confrontational situations a lot, and that society does not adequately prepare women for how to manage these situations. I also think that men are not put into confrontational situations nearly enough. And I think that for everybody who gets put into a confrontational situation - whatever the situation and whatever their gender - there is far too great a tendency to try and get out of the situation by placing the blame on somebody else.

So if I can leave you with a few takeaway points, it's this:

1) Think before you act. Consider how your actions might impact on the other person, and try to think of at least 3 possible outcomes, because there are always more than two options.

2) Learn to be comfortable with your own discomfort. Nobody likes being told they are in the wrong, but before you jump in to defend yourself, consider the possibility that maybe the other person has a point.

3) Question your assumptions. What makes it OK for you to behave in a certain way? Are you sure? Is that always the case? What might happen if you behaved differently?

4) Look out for nonverbal cues. Most people are pretty crap about communicating with their words. It's not their (or our, since I am certainly not exempt from this!) fault; as a society we're pretty crap at teaching people how to communicate, and we tend to penalise those who do. Especially women. Understand this.

5) Be aware of and listen to your instincts. If you feel uncomfortable in a situation, there probably is a good reason for it, whether it's apparent or not. If you sense that someone else is uncomfortable in a situation, address it! Remember point 4. Sometimes you'll have to be the one to start the hard conversations, even when it's the other person who's got the issue.

I have so, so, so, much more to say on this, but that is enough for Part Two. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this, and writing Part Three when next the mood strikes. Until next time...

Queer Aesthetics

You know when you're trying to write about one thing, but you've got something else boiling under your skin? Yeah, that's what's happening with me at the moment. I'm trying to finish my final data chapter (!!!) but there's something else that is on my mind: aesthetics - and particularly lesbian/queer aesthetics.

This has been something I've been pondering for awhile, especially over the last six months, as I've come to the end of (or rather a pause in) a massive physical transformation and have been quite actively exploring what it means for me to be single and gay, and where I situate myself within the queer community.

To contextualise this: I only realised I was gay about 2 years ago, after breaking up with my first girlfriend. Since then, I have lost around 30kg. This was the result of a very intensive campaign to get fit and improve my health; it was never about being thin (something I have no desire to be). I have talked about my weight loss a lot on this blog, and I don't want to get into it again here. All that needs to be said about it here is that I reached a point where I was happy with my body, sick of spending all my time exercising, and annoyed that my clothes never fit me for more than a couple of months (that's all well and good when you can afford to buy new ones; I can't!); so my body transformation project has been put on the back burner for the time being. Over the past, erm, 8 months I've also been figuring out - for the first time - what it means to me to be gay and single. When I first came out I felt like my sexuality was contingent upon my relationship status. It wasn't until Lady Cop and I broke up (for the final time) that I started to explore life as a single lesbian; in a nutshell it's AWESOME!

When I first started dating women, I was quite insecure with myself, particularly about my appearance. Coming from heteroland, I felt that I did not have enough beauty capital to attract the kind of man I was attracted to, and I did not know if those same beauty dynamics would transfer over into the lesbian community. How would other women engage with my body, and how would I engage with their bodies? It has been completely fascinating for me to observe and experience a variety of queer aesthetics. Heteronormative beauty standards do not hold the same influence within the queer community - though they are not completely absent either - and while I have found that incredibly liberating, I have also discovered that queer aesthetics can be quite difficult to navigate.

For me, aesthetics are extremely important. They are important because they are about how I represent myself to others, and about how I interpret others. I think it's also really important to differentiate between aesthetics and looks/attractiveness, because while they are related, they are not the same things. I understand looks/attractiveness to be about how one measures up to some external standard of beauty. Looks/attractiveness is often quite a disempowering framework because it is quite narrowly defined, is always about comparison and conformity, and its standards are nearly impossible for most people to obtain. I understand aesthetics to be about how one expresses one's individuality. I would say that it involves developing a stylized version of one's self, though technically such a stylization could involve completely disengaging from the dictates of the fashion and beauty industries.

The reason I believe aesthetics are so important is because of their link to desire. And this is precisely why I find myself so fascinated by queer aesthetics; because they signal queer desire - often in complex and messy ways. Our aesthetic practices (generally) signal something about our personality to others: wearing gym clothes tells people you are interested in fitness; wearing a suit is a sign of power; high heels are a sign of femininity; and asymmetrical haircuts are, apparently, a sign of living in Melbourne's inner north. Queer aesthetics complicates this, because queer culture is about challenging binaries and finding new ways of being. Queer culture is further challenged by the fact that not everyone in the gay community is queer. This has meant, for me, that sometimes I am misread.

I suppose that being misread is part of the parcel of being queer; not everyone is going to get it and that is, after all, the point. Why I struggle with being misread is because I misread myself for so much of my life. Being heterosexual was an identity that never sat comfortably with me and ultimately made me very unhappy; I am eager to distance myself from it in as many ways as I can. I spent far too long passing for a heterosexual; I want my body to signal to myself - as much as to anyone else - that that is not who or what I am.

Since coming out, I have sought to make myself visibly 'queer'. Many of you are familiar with my quest to achieve appropriately 'lesbian' hair: in an effort to make my gayness immediately obvious, I have shaved off most of my hair. My hair certainly signals to the right people that I am gay, and as I joked before, that I live in the inner north. I have this desire to achieve an aesthetic that is unmistakeably queer; an aesthetic that is not linked to clothing, but is of my body. Tattoos are good for this, though  even the visible and aggressive ones have been appropriated by certain heterosexual aesthetics. At the moment I am experimenting with being a hairy lesbian, since body hair seems to be something straight women shy away from. The problem there is that I am ridiculously blonde, so even after months of growth my body hair is not immediately visible.

The reason that I, at times, am misread within the gay community is because there is a disconnect between what my aesthetic says about me, and how I actually am. You see, I like to wear dresses. I always have, and I reckon I always will. But I am not now, nor have I ever been, a 'girly girl'. If I had to sum myself up in four words, I'd probably go with: wears dresses, throws punches. The picture of me at my 4th birthday that I have on this blog I think demonstrates this divide nicely. Because of this, people often tell me that I should go for the rockabilly look. And while it's true that this style suits me remarkably well - it is a style that celebrates the hourglass figure - there are three reasons why I am not taking on a full time rockabilly aesthetic:

1. I have 'commitment issues'. I do not not want to be boxed in to any one way of being. I would get extremely bored if I only ever expressed myself in one particular way. Besides, my personality is far too all over the place to be contained by any one aesthetic.
2. The best thing about being poor has been that it's forced me to breakup with consumerism. I am a recovering shopaholic. I have found it so liberating to not be concerned about wearing the flashest clothes, and have found it incredibly empowering to experiment with fashion I can afford. As it turns out, if you wear your clothes well, it really doesn't matter that they came from Kmart and Savers.
3. While I enjoy the rockabilly aesthetic, I feel no particular connection to rockabilly culture. Largely because, from the outside looking in, rockabilly feels quite heteronormative to me. I know that there is a huge queer engagement with rockabilly, but, it strikes me as often reproducing the butch/femme dichotomy, which is something that I personally do not want to engage with. I consider my personality to be quite masculine, and while there is room for that within the rockabilly femme aesthetic, I don't know, it just doesn't sit well with me. Maybe that's unfair. It's based on a personal experience I had with a woman who - I think - expected me to act femme when I dressed femme. Which just made me want to act incredibly butch. Which made her not want to talk to me anymore. There's good reason for why I have a rep at my office for topping from the bottom!! Maybe I just need to come with a disclaimer...

Embodying a queer aesthetic is something of a moving target. What it means to be queer changes over time; what it means to me to be queer has changed over time. Which aesthetics are appropriated by the queer community change, and are gradually reappropriated by the hetero community (cuz we're the cool trend setters that move society forward). There is no permanence to queer aesthetics; it is always read as queer because of how it is situated within a particular socio-historical context. For instance, my struggle to have my personal aesthetics reconciled with my queer desires may be specific to the Melbourne scene. I wonder if I would still be read as femme if I was in Calgary, where there is a much more conservative aesthetic culture? I suppose in a few months I will find out!

Queer aesthetics are about pushing the boundaries of existing ways of being, and opening up space to become something new. Doing so involves inhabiting spaces where, as Cressida Heyes described it, one is - to some extent - unintelligible to others. I have not quite worked out how to signal my desires through my aesthetic: I am a masculine woman with feminine aesthetics who desires masculine women with masculine aesthetics. But this is part of the fun of being single: I get to experiment with my aesthetics and see who responds and how.

body love

And while it would be nice to have my self and my desires read correctly through my aesthetics, I find that having conversations with people tends to clear up any misinterpretations that may occur (if only everyone was as open to having such conversations as I am)! Besides, even if there was some aesthetic that did signal exactly who I am and what I want, desire is much too fluid to stay in any one place forever so any successfully occupied aesthetic is always going to be temporary anyways. Thank goodness I am finally happy just being me!

The Kissing Year

And just like that, 2011 comes to an end. I didn't see the beauty in this last night, but I wore the same dress this NYE as the one I wore to that little karaoke bar in Kona last year. I ended the year in the same outfit that I started the year in. Only this time I didn't pour beer down my front.

2011 was - from start to finish - one of the best years of my life. There were bad parts to it, but the hard stuff is what makes us stronger, and I learned and grew from my experiences. I've found myself feeling a bit sad as this year has come to a close. As if the year ending means all the awesomeness 2011 brought me will end too. It's a silly attitude - and I'll get to that - but as the clock got closer and closer to midnight, I found myself feeling more and more closed off.

When midnight struck I was sitting on the deck at a friend's place, surrounded by a small group of women - some of whom I'd just met, others that I know very well. We lit sparklers and laughed. And I decided to stop being silly and start enjoying myself.

You know why 2011 was such an incredible year for me? Because as I rung it in, I made up my mind that I was going to make it an incredible year. It was a resolution in the truest sense: it was a mission statement. No matter how crap I was feeling, I kept on living my life. I kept doing things to make my life - in some way - better. The awesomeness of 2011 wasn't some magic cast upon me by that bar in Kona or the electromagnetic fields of mantra rays; I made it happen for myself. There's no reason I can't do the same for 2012.

2011 was a lot of things for me, but more than anything else, it was the year of friendship. Not only did I meet a lot of incredible new people who I consider to be absolute blessings in my life, but I've developed some truly wonderful friendships with people who were already in my life. I am in absolute awe over how amazing the people in my life are. The bar has been raised! I no longer allow shitty people into my life, and I encourage others to do the same (even if that means kicking me out of your life - which I know for at least one person it has).

I've had a lot of down time over the holidays - my family being far away and all my friends pretty much being busy with family of their own. So I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on my life and what I want from it. I got a good thing going for myself over 2011, and I'm eager for that to continue. But there's always ways to improve upon something, so how can I take things up a notch in 2012? The answer came to me as I exchanged New Years texts with one of my awesome friends: 2012 is the kissing year! Tell your friends!

Several people in my life have said "Nah, 2012 is the year of writing." But - and I'm sorry - that is stupid! All the people who said that are writers. You can't declare a year the year of your job! Even if your job is something that involves some degree of starving artistry. Just, no! You can still work on your writing and have all those achievements while enjoying some sweet kissin' action. And honestly, who on earth would say no to kissing for the sake of writing? Priorities, people, please!

I absolutely love kissing. It's the best thing about a new romance. The saddest thing to me is when a relationship reaches that point where the kissing just kinda stops. Why do we always stop when it's the nicest part? It's ridiculous! So I guess that is my resolution for 2012: to not stop kissing!

As Coach and I made our way to Thornbury to start our respective evenings at a friend's BBQ, I explained to her about how 2012 is the kissing year. She was less than enthusiastic about this - having just gone through a breakup (side note: if ever there was a reason to get your kiss on, that is it! That is actually a major finding from my research, so, doctor's orders!) - but I wasn't letting up on the idea so she proposed that I needed some ground rules:

1. Ladies Only, Gentlemen Forbidden.
2. It doesn't have to involve tongue, but it does have to be a proper kiss. A quick peck on the lips is not a proper kiss.
3. If it's a year of kissing I'm after, I've got to kiss 52 women; one for each week.

This last rule is rather daunting! 52 is a lot of women! I feel like that is asking for mono (or rabies... given I've just finished reading Chuck Palahniuk's book Rant). I only kissed 3 people in 2011 (and yes, there is a rather disturbing picture on my phone that suggests a fourth, but that doesn't count!). I'm really quite happy with the level and quality of kissing that I experienced in 2011. I have some good 2011 kissing stories, but I'm not telling them on my blog! Though I will share some of my other kissing stories with you...and if I go through with this kissing year business, the women of 2012 will probably not get that same level of privacy!

It's an interesting challenge. There are some kissing related circumstances that are preventing me from committing to going forward with this challenge at this time (I did not kiss anyone at midnight, so as of yet the kissing year is entirely theoretical), but should I go forward with Coach's particular set of rules, I have some game plans for how to get to 52 in a year.

Have I told you the story of the first time I kissed a girl? I was 21 and out with a totally awesome friend at a monthly 'fetish' night at the local gay club. Actually, the very first time I kissed a girl I was 13, but that's the story of how I came to be a heterosexual - so a story for another time! Anyways, I was at this club with my friend and this girl comes up to us and says: "I'm trying to see how many girls I can get to kiss me tonight. Would you like to help me out?" My friend agrees, they make out for a bit, and then my friend writes her name on this girl's arm so she can keep tabs. And then it was my turn...

So I'd spent the last 8 years actively repressing my homosexuality, and along comes some random girl who offers me a totally innocent, no strings, opportunity to do something I was secretly dying to do. To say I was excited is an understatement! Well, Katy Perry, I kissed that girl and I liked it! A lot. Better than any kiss I'd ever had before. I had absolutely zero interest in stopping kissing her, though when I realized that I freaked myself out and did stop. I have no idea who that girl was, but I am eternally grateful to her and whoever was behind her kissing challenge. Thank you for showing me how awesome and  totally OK it is to kiss girls!

I wonder how close to 52 that strategy would get me? Especially if I was to do it while I'm in Sydney for Mardi Gras...


Pucker up ladies!



How To Date Yourself

I've been living on my own for two weeks now, and it's been an interesting experience. At first I hated it! It was so quiet when I'd come home, and I felt starved for conversation. Plus, there was nobody to get annoyed at for the dishes piling up on the bench, as they were all mine. But soon enough I found myself looking forward to coming home to my empty apartment, where I could wander around pantless to my heart's content and take over the kitchen table with my uni work. I even started doing my dishes in a timely manner (helped, of course, by my neighbours' naked bathroom antics). It's been fun, and enlightening to realize that maybe one day when I can afford to, I might enjoy living on my own. My new flatmate moves in next weekend, and I am looking forward to that! It'll be fun to have some 'new blood' in my life.

Living on my own has got me thinking about being on my own. I've spent more of my adult life single than not, so it's hardly new to me. I've learnt a thing or two about dating and being single as the years have gone by and the exes have pile up. For one, when a relationship ends, it's always a good thing. It'll take some time to actually feel that way, but inevitably I find myself thanking my lucky stars that I'm no longer the passenger on a train destined for disaster. After all, if the relationship worked (really, truly) it wouldn't have ended.

Now, apparently I'm not fooling anyone if I try to say that I'm happy being single, but I am. I would prefer to be in a relationship, sure, but I'll take being single over being in a shitty relationship any day of the week! One of the things I like best about being single is dating. This wasn't always the case. Back in the days of my repressed homosexuality the thought of having to date was enough to drive me to accept a relationship with whatever man came along. Turns out, dating's a heck of a lot more fun when you do it with the right gender! What is both great and horrible about lesbian dating is that when you meet up with a girl, you're never sure if it's a 'date' or 'just coffee'. And whatever it is for you, it's likely not the same for her. That may sound horrible, but I love it! Though, to be fair, I do rather enjoy making my life more complicated than it ever need be.

I love meeting new people and getting to know them, seeing if there's a connection or not. And I especially love bad dates! Like the time I saw Sex and The City II. As if it wasn't enough that the movie was a crime against humanity, at one point my date turned to me and said "I always wanted Carrie to end up with Aidan." What the fuck?! I nearly got up and walked out of the theatre, it was so over for me in that moment. But I didn't. I eventually, reluctantly, agreed to another date and crushed her hopes then. On a more recent 'just coffee' date, I said that I'm really not too concerned with what other people think of me. I think she believed me by the time we parted ways. That's another thing I've learnt: if they can't accept me as I am, don't bother. Though, that one's still a work in progress. There's that whole 'good first impression' thing, so if I do think I'd like to see them again, I've realized I need to not be quite so full on with the 'being myself' stuff. Although... if I'm full on and they do stick around for a second date, I believe protocol allows me to hire a U-Haul for said date.

I'm mentioned before that Kanye West has altogether too much insight into my life. Recently I was walking home and listening to one of his songs when a lyric I've heard a hundred times struck me like a frying pan across the face because it sums up my attitude towards dating so well:

But I know that God put you in front of me

So how the hell could you front on me?

There's a thousand yous;

There's only one of me

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am probably going to be single for a looooooooooong time! Granted, maybe one day I'll meet Kanye and we can discuss what, exactly, this 'anything' is he's willing to do for a blonde dyke. (Speaking of which, I was looking through my pictures yesterday, and while I looked good as a brunette, I look better as a blonde. Well, with this haircut I certainly do!)

Given that I have no way of knowing if I'll meet my perfect woman tomorrow or ten years from now (who will be so perfect she'll find my Kanye West-esque attitude charming and delightful) I've got to make the most of being single: I've got to date myself!

Single or not, I think the ability to take yourself out on a date is a skill that every woman, if not everyone, should develop. I take myself on some pretty awesome dates. Possibly too awesome. When I go out on dates with other people, they usually don't live up to the ones I take myself on.

Dating yourself is not meeting up with your girlfriends; it is not sitting at home with a tub of ice cream and a box set of chick flicks; and it is not going to the salon to get yourself prettied up for someone else's benefit!

Dating yourself is about scheduling time out to spend with yourself doing the things you enjoy doing, but don't make the time to do. It's about doing things for yourself that you would normally just do for someone else. It doesn't have to be anything particularly fancy, as long as it's all about doing whatever you fancy.

The past month my workload has been completely insane, and it's not getting any lighter. And while I've gone out on 'dates' since LC and I broke up, I couldn't remember the last time I'd taken myself out on a date. So I said to hell with my workload and scheduled in a Saturday date with myself. I got up early and did some work, then headed to the gym for the first time in 3 weeks. That wasn't technically part of the date, but, it made me feel good and if I had been going on a date with someone else I would've been sure to get to the gym first, and that is the point of taking yourself on a date as opposed to, you know, taking yourself to run errands. I came home, showered, got changed, and headed out. It was ridiculously nice out, so I decided that I'd walk from my place to Carlton, where I planned to grab a late lunch, buy myself something nice and unnecessary, and catch a movie at my favourite cinema.

It was a completely awesome afternoon! I love wandering around Carlton, and I hadn't done it in a really long time (and an even longer time on my own). There's always good people watching in Carlton, and lots of pretty girls (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know they're all like 20 year old undergrads, whatever! They're still cute!). And everyone is there to enjoy themselves. Or shoot someone. Either way, there's excitement to be had! After lunch I wandered through the shops, knowing I could buy myself whatever I liked with the money I had set aside for this date. I thought it would be clothes, but it ended up being books! Which was great because I've been in a real book slump for a few months now, where not much is grabbing my attention. When I have been able to get into a book I dread it ending because I know it's going to be ages before I find something else to read. But now I've got a backlog of books I'm excited to read!

I had time to kill between my shopping and the movie starting, so I went and lay in the sun in a park for awhile, while a bunch of people my age square danced. I have no idea what that was all about, but they looked like they were having fun. I thought about going closer to check it out, but I wasn't actually interested. After the gym and the walk and the shopping, I really just wanted to lay in the warmth of the sun and not do anything at all. Which is exactly what I did. Then I went and saw 'Begginers', which was absolutely beautiful. I don't care what those harpies sitting beside me said about it! Ewan McGreggor is a gorgeous man and a talented actor, but he really cannot do an American accent. The resulting awkwardness in his speech actually really suited his character though, so it works out.

I planned on taking the tram and bus home, but when I got to the bus stop I discovered it was too late. So I walked, and I'm glad I did. It was such a beautiful evening. I came home feeling refreshed and at peace with myself. Whatever happens with the other people who come into and out of my life, I'm always going to have myself. It was really nice to take some time out from everything just to remind myself of how much I actually do like myself and enjoy my own company.

I recommend you do the same.

The Beginning of The End

Don't waste your time fighting the line

State your course and you'll understand

- Jay-Z

Tomorrow is a big day for me. Tomorrow everything changes. Though, of course, it already has. Tomorrow is my birthday. Tomorrow is the first day of the end of my 20's. Tomorrow is also the last day of my scholarship. And of course, tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life.

I remember last year I was really anxious about turning 28 and what this year would hold in store for me. I knew it was going to be a challenging year, and whether it was obvious or not, this time last year I was really freaking out about how I was going to manage. But looking back at the past year... it kind of blows my mind how much I've changed, how much I've grown, how much I've learnt about myself.

Not too long ago my flatmate and I were reflecting on our lives and how different (read: better) our late 20's have been from our early 20's. Thinking about how 28 has been for me, I had mixed feelings about the year. But as my flatmate said, "I think you'll look back on this year as a time when some really positive changes started to happen in your life."

And it's true! For starters, I've lost 20kg in the past year. I ran my first 5km race, and now I'm training for a 10km race. I finished my data collection, completely lost interest in my PhD, then fell utterly in love with it again and now want to build my future career on the research I am doing now. I've healed my relationships with my parents a lot, and I've gotten to reconnect with my siblings as adults, which is nothing short of awesome! My professional skills are starting to be recognized in the form of gainful employment and mentoring...

It hasn't all been fun times and kicking ass though. I had a very stupid fight with a friend, and while we've reconciled now, I regret that I became the kind of person who would let that happen. One of the things I've realized over the past year is that friendship is something I value very dearly. I get along well with most people, but it's rare to find someone who I can truly call a friend. And while there are some people back in Canada who I feel like I've gotten closer with this past year, I've felt a lot of disconnect with my friends here in Melbourne. And given that I live in Melbourne, that is hardly an ideal situation! Then there are the incredible grey areas... Breaking up with Lady Cop, twice, is hardly my idea of a good time. But then, a lot of good has come out of it. A lot of good, and a lot of change, and according to a psychic we went to, change is always a good thing.

I started this blog with a lyric from my current favourite hip-hop song, Blue Magic. The reason this song resonates so much with me right now is that, like so much of Jay-Z's music, it's about coming out of tough times on top. Jay-Z is an absolute inspiration to me. This is a man who came from a situation where nobody expected him to amount to anything, but he always knew better. His intellect, his insight into the way the world works, and the way he so simply yet cleverly lays it out, it's pure beauty to me. This is a man who has been, and who I am sure continues to be, under estimated. A lot of people who get under estimated get this attitude like they've got something to prove to the world, but not Jay-Z. He knows what he is capable of, he knows how good he is, and he knows the world is never really going to get it. But instead of trying to make the world sit up and take notice, he just goes about living his life, doing his thing, absolutely on his own terms, whether the world notices or not. I find that absolutely admirable. Especially because as he's always known his own worth, he's always managed to have control over his career.

Which brings me back to the lyric I opened with. We all come into the world in a particular context: in a particular moment in history, in a particular socioeconomic status, in a particular family, in a particular part of the world. We can't change those things; we've got to play the cards that we're dealt. How we play them though, is up to us. There's no point trying to fight the things that are outside of our control. We are much better off to accept whatever circumstances we are in and focus on how we're going to work with whatever we've got to make the best of the situation we're in.

I've been thinking a lot as my birthday has approached about what my circumstances are, and what I can do about it. And this is the thing: when Lady Cop and I were together, I was fighting the line; I wasn't focusing on myself and my own abilities, and while I thought I was maneuvering myself onto a better course by relying on someone else, I was actually making things a lot more difficult for myself. What inspires me about Jay-Z is how clearly he manages to stay on his course, even with other people in his life. I mean, Beyonce is a mega-superstar with her own career and life goals and all of that. She is an amazing woman and an amazing catch, and I know a lot of people would think that if she snaps her fingers, he'd better come a-running. But no! It's not like that at all. He knows that she's incredible, but he also knows he's awesome personified too. Being with her doesn't change his course. He's still going to do what's right for him.

I want to be the kind of person that can say "You're awesome, I want to be with you, but this is my life and I am living it this way, whether you're in it or not." This is the biggest lesson I have learnt over the past year, and it's been a hard lesson to learn. Compromise is important in relationships, sure, but it is different from going off course with your own life.

So I'm not fighting the line; I've stated my course, and I understand.

What does that mean for my 29th year? Finishing my PhD is my number one priority. But I have to be realistic: my candidature expires in 6 months, and especially given that I now have to engage in paid work to survive and that I want my PhD to launch my future career, I need more than 6 months to finish. So I have decided to extend my candidature by 6 months, which means taking out student loans and paying tuition. I will submit my thesis before my 30th birthday!!! And while I do still want to continue losing weight, right now I am happy with my body. I like my fitness regime; it's not as hardcore as previous ones, but it's enough to continue improving my fitness and toning my body without having to be obsessive about what I eat, while having the flexibility to allow my PhD to take priority. Having a social life is vital to my well-being, so I am actively making new friends and reconnecting with old ones. For reasons that unfortunately stopped being relevant too late to change anything, my flatmate is moving out and someone new will be coming in (tbd, don't want to jinx it, not talking about it until it's in the past).

Tomorrow is a fresh start. From here on in, I'm running the show.

It's Just Like Riding A Bike

Ha! Well, what exactly does that mean when you've never learnt how?

Meet Greta, my new partner in crime.

Gorgeous, I know. That's why I picked her!

On some level I knew that, having only theoretical knowledge of how to ride a bike, it wasn't going to be quite as simple as hopping on and pedaling. I guess I just didn't realize how hard just hopping on and pedaling would be.

I woke up on Sunday super keen to give it a go. It wasn't raining, so I put on my daggiest trackies, got Greta out of the store room, and marched off to the park. I decided to set myself up in the front end of the park where there was a patch of grass that was relatively flat and wasn't full of dog walkers. I hopped on, got my footing, and then realized a series of things:

• Greta has six gears...which one did I need to be in?
• How do you go from standing still to moving?
• How do I turn my lights on?

Honestly, the falling was the only thing I could successfully manage. I spent a good half hour falling. And yes, I looked like a dork, and yes, random people looked at me like I was insane and occasionally openly laughed at me. I was quite the spectacle, and I knew that, and I was OK with that.

What I hadn't given any consideration to was where I live and who was likely to see me making a fool of myself on a Sunday morning. Yeah. I live in the gaybourhood. And being single again, I've put myself back into the ether of online dating. So of course as I was making a fool of myself when someone who I had recently been chatting with walks by. D'oh!

As if that wasn't bad enough... enter the creepy older man. He arrived at the park shortly after I did, and I quickly got the impression that he was overly interested in me. Ostensibly he was jogging, but after his second lap he stopped and asked me if I wanted some help. And for some reason I said, "Yeah, sure!" D'oh!

He spent several minutes suggesting that I move onto a flatter surface than grass, even though doing so would be scary as falling would hurt a lot more. Having just spent half an hour falling over, I was well aware that I'd land on my feet when I lost my balance. So I was like, "Yeah, thanks for the tip, I'll do that." And then he repeated it all over again. He asked me how long I've been living in Australia, and if I planned to stay. I told him how long and said I wasn't sure about staying at this point, he couldn't imagine why.  Then he advised me that as I was clearly going to fall over and look like an idiot and anyone who say would laugh at me and have a go at me, because Australians like to take the piss. Like I hadn't figured that out in the three and a half years I've been here! And then he violated Greta.

Yeah, I won't be taking her out on my own again! I've got a friend who is going to come out with me and help me properly acquainted with Greta, we just have to figure out a time. Until then, pretty she sits, waiting for me to take her for a ride.

Mission: Accomplished!

Three weeks to train for a 5km race? No problem!!!

So today was the big day, my very first 5km race. And guess what?! I WON!!! I've got the medal to prove it and everything. ;)

Okay, so everyone who crossed the finish line has the medal to prove it, but so what? I kicked all sorts of ass out there, and while I probably won't know what my official time was for a couple more days, I know today's run was a personal best.

Like most things in my life, I jumped into doing this race with very little idea of what, exactly, I would be getting myself into. I decided to do it on a whim, just to prove to myself that I could. Until three weeks ago, the only running I'd ever done was the occassional mad sprint for the tram. Remember when I first said I was going to do this, and I figured I could run 5km in 45 minutes? My time was probably closer to 36 minutes. As I said, ass was kicked!!

I made my way down to Federation Square this morning, where I joined about a gazillion other Melbournites in trackies, skins, trainers, and race bibs. The 5km run started at 10:30am, which was nice as it gave me time to have my morning coffee, a bit of breakfast, and do some yoga before leaving my apartment. There were 3 waves: up to 30 minutes, 31-35 minutes, and 36+ minutes. I was in the last wave. Along with about a quarter of a gazillion other people, as it turns out!

As it approahced 10:30, I joined the other runners in the starting gate and was quickly faced with the unanticipated: there were A LOT of people running in this thing! And we were all squashed onto this road, and the gun was going to go off, and then...was I gonna get trampled...or was I gonna be doing the trampling? Obviously (perhaps) this wasn't unanticipated for the race organizers, and each wave got sent off in smaller, more managable groups. I think the overall trampling was kept to a minimum.

Finally it was my group's turn to go...and off we went! Normally I start off my runs by walking to warm up, but I'd already warmed up for this one, and by this point was feel rather pumped, so I just went for it! And it was AWESOME!!! In no time I was passing people, people who had started before me, and pretty soon I hit a good stride that I felt comfortable in.

Sometimes I think being almost completely unprepared for things can work to my advantage, and this race was definitely one of those times. There were two things that I was psychologically unprepared for that actually helped me to push myself more than I otherwise might have: the sheer volume of people I was running with, and the fact that I had only a very vague idea of how far I'd run and how much further I had to go.

Quickly after the race started, I realized that I was going to be spending a fair amount of time picking my way through packs of slower people. This was actually quite a lot of fun. I'd adjust my rhythme to those around me so that I could come up between two people at the exact moment a spot between them opened up. I'd jump in front of people running faster than me to get around someone slower than me and push myself to sprint so that I didn't end up getting trampled. I ran along the grass, on uneven pavement, and weaved my way through the crowds. Every time I passed a group of people, it made me want to push myself to keep running just that much longer.

The park where I've been doing my practice runs has a 1km track with markers every 100m (except for at 800m for some reason), so when I trained, I'd run for a particular distance (usually 2km) and then slow down to walk for a bit. I figured that there would be a marker for each kilometer of this run and that after I passed the 2km one I'd slow down and walk for a bit. Well, if there were markers for the 5km, I certainly didn't see them! There was markers for the half marathon, but it wasn't particularly useful to run past something saying 12km on a 5km run. Fairly early on I passed some event volunteers who were cheering us all on for having made it "over a kilometer already" but after that, the only time I knew where I was in the 5km was when I got the the sign saying "100m to go!"

Since I had no idea where the 2km point was, I was reluctant to slow down. I knew after the race I could look it up on the map, and that I'd be disappointed if I'd stopped running too soon. So I just kept on going until I got to what I thought was marking the half way point, and only then did I let myself slow down to a walk for a bit. Turns out I stopped running just slightly before the 3km point!!! I didn't want to walk for too long, so after a brief breather and a flick through my music to get some music to pump me up, I was off and running again. This time I ran a bit under 1km before slowing down to walk for a bit again. I'm pretty sure that all up I only walked for 500-600m of the race, which is pretty damn impressive!

After my second bout of walking, I realized I didn't have that much further to go, and I wasn't slowing down. When I got to the 100m mark I started to push myself even harder, even though by that point my hamstrings were tightening up and I was starting to get a side splint. There was just no way I wasn't going to finish the race strong! So I ran all the way through the blue finishing strip before I slowed down. Then it was all about finding the people handing out water and rehydrating. And getting my medal!

I had a friend running in the 5km as well, but I hadn't been able to find her at the starting line. Fortunately, we were able to find each other after the race and celebrate our ass kickingness with a bit of retail therapy, Japanese food, and beer. High on endorphines, we were all about doing the 10km next year. And you know what? Why not?! I had an awesome time running that 5km, and it just continued to be awesome as we wandered around the CBD with our medals while strangers congratulated us on our awesomeness.

But next year, Run Melbourne organizers, I think there needs to be some sort of a 'speed' dating thing set up based on our race numbers. Cuz seriously, there were some hotties out there! ;)

Not only was my first 5km race a big success, but so was my fundraising for Joni's Run For A Bike! I managed to raise $200 toward purchasing myself a bike, and $20 for a dog shelter from a friend who feels that if I want a bike I should "get a job." To everyone who has donated on my behalf, a big, heartfelt THANK YOU!!!! You're all awesome in my books!

Now for my next challenge: learning to ride a bike!