JFTR

To my so-called elder sisters,

So, when my youngest sister went on what I can only call a psychotic tirade and demanded that I leave "her" house, I would offer a few caveats in any defense of her actions.

1) She never once, until that night, mentioned a single thing I might have done or been doing that she found objectionable to _me_.  I understand that she had been berating me to you a lot, for the nigh 2 months I had been there.  Still, she never said two syllables to me about what I could do to change or better the situation.  Even then, she never proferred what was wrong nor how it could possibly be remedied, just threats.  Seem reasonable?

2) No matter what I may or may not have done, _I_ did not threaten my 84-year old mother with eviction/being thrown out of the only address she has known since 1956.  That moronic demon said she believes that I think I am better than her.  Well, with her desire to throw Mama out, I _know_ that I am _infinitely_ better that her.  I have _shit_ things more worthwhile than her.  If you don't agree, then I'm better than you, too. And none of you will be worth the salt in my tears anymore.

3) oh, yes.  I heartily admit to being verbally abusive to her, after she called our mother a "stupid cunt," a "dumbass," a "crazy bitch," and a "fucking asshole," amongst other things.

3a) Yes, I cussed her pussy-pansy-ass out, because she has always been able to "dish it out," but has always been too simplemindedly weak and worthless to take it herself.  Don't believe me?  Not that I care anymore, but just try to prove me wrong.  You will fail, just as she does, daily.

4) You weren't there, but I assure you that her eyes were those of a demon--full of bile, hate, evil.  Again, if you don't believe me, I can no longer care what you believe because you choose to believe a devil's lies.  If you do, I am sorry, but your lack of support nonetheless leads any rational being to believe in your tacit support of a fucking demon.

5) Oh, yeah, I have been talking about her actions and words against out own _mother_.  Did I mention that she threatened to _murder_ me while she was enflamed with that Satanic look in her eyes?  Not good enough for you??  Is the fact that I have 5 years of books (mostly) and other things in a 7.5 X 7.5 foot single room a most mortal sin?  If you believe so, then I would have little use for your insipidness.

6) She recently went ballistic about a coworker who bitched behind her and Ricky's back without having the balls enough to talk to someone to their face.  Guess what?  Hypocrisy can go fuck itself with a railroad spike.

Cover Letter

Dear Search Committee for the Diversity Program Manager/LGBT Specialist at UCSF:

                  I am writing to express to you my great desire to be your next Specialist in LGBT Programs.  It would be my dream to continue my efforts to achieve liberty and justice for all by helping LGBT people and Allies, by reaching out to the community and its partners to bolster dialogue, and by creating safe zones throughout campus.

                  When I returned to Vanderbilt in 2008, I was thrilled to discover that in place of the small GLBT Resource Center, the Dean of Students had established an Office of LGBTQI Life right in the center of main campus. As soon as I could, I went to the newly-founded center to see what resources they had and how I could help their mission of a safe and affirming space for all sexualities and identities at Vanderbilt.

                  I began to volunteer there, answering phones, greeting visitors--even giving tours in three languages. I marveled at how transformative such a center would have been when I was an undergraduate, as well as how imperative it was at an institution of higher learning even now. The students, as well as staff and faculty, invigorated me to dedicate my time, passion, and effort to establishing and maintaining a safe space for LGBTQI and allied people.

                  As time went on, my dedication to the Office of LGBTQI Life led to my volunteer duties becoming a paid position.  I also redoubled my involvement in student organizations that challenged heteronormative constructions on campus. I was events coordinator of HRC Vanderbilt, then president, and then founded Out in the Academy for graduate students seeking social and professional connections. In these positions, I have been able to organize and to execute numerous programs in the furtherance of LGBTQI interests.

                  There are many programs I have piloted at Vanderbilt of which I have a certain pride, but I deem three in particular to be most indicative of my passion, ability, and capability that would make me a competitive candidate for you. I am including links to pages detailing each event: I beg forgiveness if they do not work as I intend.

Perhaps the most salient program that I can name is the GenderBlender Dance Party that I helped organize as coordinator for HRC Vanderbilt. Its objectives still remain articulated on this website: http://tinyurl.com/gndrblndr

                  The event’s rationale was to provide a fun way to interrogate heteronormativy while also providing a safe space to question gender identity and expression, yet have a good time. This event required me to coordinate plant services, housing, catering, as well as a DJ.  It also necessitated that I supervise students in clean-up services as well as campus/building regulations all while balancing our meager budget for the program. Though it was a challenge, it is one indeed that I happily met and fulfilled.

                  Another program that still resonates was one called “The Art of Negotiation:” http://tinyurl.com/c4bteop. I contacted a local African-American lesbian entrepreneur to discuss how she balances her multiple identities in which she may be in a given situation in which she is the only woman in the room, the only African-American in the room, or the only queer-identified person. We secured co-sponsorship with the Bishop Joseph Johnson Black Cultural Center. Members of Nashville Black Pride’s Board of Directors were in attendance as we listened to our speaker detail the challenges that she faces in being part of under-served communities but still managing to thrive with vigor and pride.

                  The final program that I believe most shows my abilities was a panel discussion that I helped organize about the challenges of being openly LGBT within academia. This was also designed to be an event to introduce the graduate student group Out in the Academy which aimed to provide a social outlet for graduate students that had been lacking for Arts & Sciences, Engineering, and Business. Although much planning and negotiation had preceded the event by months, two of our three panelists unexpectedly withdrew 48 hours before the event! In a paroxysm of intense networking, e-mailing, phoning, and pleading, I managed to secure a full panel for the event. In the face of last-minute challenges, I had pulled through and ensured that the discussion took place http://tinyurl.com/cxl55xc

                  To paraphrase Walt Whitman, “I am many, I contain multitudes.” It is my sincere hope that I may be your next program coordinator. It is a perfect position for me, and I am sure that I can meet all your needs exceedingly well.

Sincerely, and yours in equality,

-Robert Trent]

Been there, Done that...

Interesting Article

http://ipowerproject.com/forum/topics/the-social-invisibility-of

Just for the record, I believe the author is Brazilian, which would explain the spelling "bissexual," for example. Still, it another case of how the binaries blind us all and, even worse, makes some of us nigh invisible.

My Transgender Crush

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bC_40paWoUk&feature=player_embedded#!

More, More, More

Hello again! Time waits for no one, and it sure has run by me or over me lately. I have a few updates and info that I thought I would share.

Robyn Ochs came to visit the university I attend. I got to talk to her sort-of one-on-one, and I am even more invigorated to be a bisexual activist in my own way. The fact that my bi friend was there only increased my sense of feeling blessed and honored to know such people and to start to work for social justice for all—including bisexual folks.

That sister I had mentioned? Well…she outed me to my 80-year old mother. I was going to tell Mom the next time I saw her IRL, but my sister took my voice from me. I won’t go into details because it is long and involved, but I believe that she told Mom for selfish reasons—not to aid me in any way. She was trying to play the martyr card as a “supportive sibling” for the downtrodden bisexual brother. Oh, brother, is about all I can say, although my thoughts are more full of swearing...

My friend TransMac has been living as a total dude. His strength, despite his young age (just like my bi friend), awes me, inspires me and honors me. He is an amazing guy, and I am so privileged to have his trust. He and my other LGBTQI friends-family make me so proud!

I worked at my local Pride festival. What is Pride to me? That such an amazing assortment of people—gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer, transgender, questioning, ally, etc.—would look at me and call me “friend” and “support” really makes me feel like I have done something good in this world. Just to know such people at all is a blessing and inspiring wonderment. That they call me friend is an honor that fills my heart and soul.

Troubled?

I recently had a dream that bothered me in some ways. I dreamed that I saw this beautiful woman. She was blond and well-proportioned and really lovely. In this dream, we danced. We got closer, and I got hard. In the dreamdance, she nestled her butt into my crotch area and began to grind. Her hair brushed my face, my cheeks, the sensitive parts of my neck. Her breath synced itself with the rhythm of my breathing. I clutched her more tightly. Then next thing I remember is that I was making love with. Okay, maybe making love is the idealist’s vision; I was fucking her. Doggy style. We never kissed, but the erotic sensations that overwhelmed me even in the dream remained with me even when I awoke.

Why is this problematic? First of all, I cannot conceive of having any kind of genital sexual contact with someone whom I did not kiss. I love making out, so having sex with someone that I didn’t make out with seems weird, if not outright anathema. Secondly, as I have recounted in an earlier post, I prefer face-t-face intimacy, regardless of partner, regardless of their sex or gender identity. This is because I love kissing and because I long for an emotional intimacy which for me comes with kissing and seeing the impassioned eyes of the desired one.

Thus, this dream was more carnal, more about sex for its own right and pleasure than for the myriad extra pleasures and connotations with which I have personally inscribed my sexuality into my own code of self, ethics and desire. I am challenged. I am confused. I do not believe myself to be “above” mere carnality in my reptile brain, but my heart and soul (if you believe in such concepts or at least accept that I do) longs for something more cogent, more palpable, more inspiring than the mere satisfaction of a physical desire/need. Thus I am troubled a little bit. I am at a loss as to what this may signify…

Monoliths

Obviously, I write this blog about my experiences as a bisexual man. Obviously, my personal experiences are not everyone’s. Then, again, neither is the way I experience sexuality. I write about my bisexuality, and, of course, other people may experience different feelings. That dear friend who came out to me recently does not currently identify with a sexual attraction to MOTSS, but ze does embrace the emotional, intellectual, and spiritual attractions ze feels. I think that it’s truly rare that any 2 people completely match in their sexuality, regardless of their orientations. I am bisexual, and I express it and feel it in a certain way. If you feel something similar, great! If not, that’s fine. I respect your feeling and expression of your sexuality.

Sexuality is so often treated as some monolithic thing. This seems to be especially true of male sexuality. Male sexuality is so often treated as something fixed, immutable and consistent. Female sexuality is often treated as somehow inherently fluid and playful: it is almost treated as something non-serious. These reifications of sexuality anger me. Not only do they distort whole groups, they disallow for individual variance. I say that we must resist being interpellated into a system that tries to make us fit into a box. Each of us has our own way of being, feeling, and expressing our attractions—however simple or complicated those attractions may be. We should celebrate diversity in the truest sense of the word, by not limiting ourselves or others by narrowing, totalizing expectations, despite the labels we might choose for ourselves.

LOL!

Today, I thanked that friend who came out to me as bi not long ago. Hir reaction was "I would hug you if I were a hugger." Ze gave me a high five instead, and that may still be the finest compliment that I have ever received. Ze got some other good news today about hir job status. I know ze will be great at hir new job, and I celebrate hir for a million reasons, and hir sexual identity is only a small part of it.

Having Someone Come Out to You

Today, one of my good friends and an all-around awesome person came out to me as bi. Ze had always identified as straight before. I was very honored that ze would come out to me. I hope I conveyed my humbled feeling but still communicated that I was thrilled with hir self-examination and embracing of this aspect of hirself.

I’m not really sure why, but I am STOKED! I am literally almost giddy about this. It’s not like I think ze is any more or less awesome than I already thought. In fact, I’m not even sure that I know why I feel so invigorated. I mean, I guess a small part is that I recognize this kind of journey of self-discovery and self-awareness, which occupied a large portion of my life until Matt and Michelle helped me figure things out, shall we say. I guess that I am also thankful that ze can feel like expressing this aspect of hirself at such a relatively young age.

It also reinforces the notion that coming out to someone is quite an honor for the one to whom someone comes out, assuming that it’s not done to castigate some ‘phobe. To come out is brave. To come out implies that the person telling you respects you enough to be allowed to have a fuller picture of hirself. That person cares for you enough to let you glimpse this aspect of their identity that could otherwise be elided. Someone coming out to you means that they are comfortable with themselves and with you. As such, it is a demonstration of respect, regard, and responsibility. It is honoring: it is humbling. Perhaps this is another reason why I am so energized: my friend invited me to know this part of hirself. That means ze cares, that I care, and that our friendship and fellowship will only be strengthened.

Should that friend ever read this message, I thank you, humbly. And, yes, you are all kinds of awesome.

TransMac

Not long ago, I met a young woman that I will call Michelle. She is funny, acerbic, sure of herself. She identified as a lesbian and has a girlfriend.

Recently, Michelle decided to go by “Mac.” Mac is questioning hir gender identity. I have known transgender people before, but none of them have been as close to me as Mac. Mac is my friend, and I adore hir. (Yes, I am going to be using gender-neutral pronouns in this blog. Mac still uses female pronouns, but I am doing this to practice.) Ze is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. A gifted musician. A brilliant conversationalist. A really funny guy.

I am glad and proud that ze chose to tell me that ze is questioning hir gender identity. Still, sometimes I fear that I am overwatchful of my language and behavior. I do not want to offend hir: I do not want to seemingly force hir into the gender dichotomy that language ensnares us with. Mac is very understanding and is still finding hir way in all this. I am just privileged to be invited along on the journey.

Reversal

I mentioned that my eldest sister had made inquiries into how to make me comfortable enough to come out to the family. I told you that I did indeed come out to her recently. She had said that I could call her any time about anything. I have called her a few times since then; my sexuality only came up once. And that was because she apparently tried to? outed me? to the “crazy Baptist sister.” Apparently, the crazy Baptist sister said that she knew but that she never wanted to hear about it. Completely as I had suspected… Now, however, the eldest sister confided to my younger sister and staunch ally that she just “can’t handle” talking to me much. Apparently, she feels that every conversation will inevitably turn to my sexuality. Wow. Thanks, Sis.

Thanksgiving

Hiya folks! Been a while, eh? I have to admit that I have been…distracted…of late. Sometimes, the passing of my father last December has crept into my mind in ways that I even now find astonishing. I have also been stressed by the thesis and by just the everyday struggles of making ends meet.

NEWAZ, it is the weekend of Thanksgiving, 2009. What am I thankful for? I am thankful for the wonderful friends and allies who support me. I am thankful for a family who loves me—even the ones who do not know me fully. I am thankful for the man on whom I currently have a crush—a decent, Christian, gay man, whose sagacity and good heart in a time of contumacious vacuity, if not downright malevolence, inspire me. I am thankful for my baby sister, who has been a staunch ally since I came out to her last year.

…and now, my eldest sister, to whom I came out just yesterday.

She knew. She’d known for some time, and she had wondered how I might be made “comfortable” enough to come out to the family. I think she thinks that I may be “just gay,” but she knew, nonetheless. She also figured that my friend Trey was more than just my friend. My sister volunteered to be my advocate should I decide to come out to the “crazy Baptist sister” or to my mother. Now, the “crazy Baptist” sister has brought my mother almost to tears due to my involvement with HRC. Social justice is apparently not a Christian value in her vapid estimation, whether I be only an ally or a “queer.”

Now, I am taking a liking to the term “queer,” partially because “crazy Baptist sister” uses it like some holy sword in her everyday speech. I, like others, reclaim the term. I rob it of the power that gits like the sister I yet love accord it. I revel in the fluidity that it encompasses and enumerates (Did I mention that I also have a celebrity crush on Ian Harvie? Meow!). I am bi. I am queer. Got a problem with it? I don’t care, because, yes, in the long run in that case, you are value-less.

I recently met Mel White, the founder of SoulForce, in part because of the man whom my heart and soul fancy even more so than the flesh ever could. You should read his stuff; it’s very good and shows that the so-called “Christian” arguments against gayness are blarney.

Blessed be us all! :D

Polymorphous Perverse and Proud!

Frued used the term “polymorphous perversity” to describe an infantile ability to derive pleasure from non-normative (i.e., non-genital) sexual practices or behaviors. A child is supposed to “learn,” I guess(?), that sexual pleasure is supposed to come only from the genitals.

This stance has been challenged by Deleuze and Guatarri in The Anti-Oedipus, arguing that what Freud termed polymorphous perversity (and therefore incomplete or deviant) is in actuality a completely free slate, a free area of play of signifiers. It transcends distinction and difference, which would eventually compartmentalize sensation—self, object/fetish, genitals, other body parts.

Judith Butler has also criticized the socialization of the individual subject to in effect this free sense of their body as a whole, assigning specific roles to certain parts or areas. For example, if some said, “Feel this!,” you would most likely stick out your hand to touch, no? Yes, the hands and fingertips have more receptors, but most of your skin all over your body would feel the general sensation. Granted, even I don’t test the roughness of sandpaper or the smoothness of silk with my elbow or anything, but I would still feel it.

At any rate, I am writing this not as an analytical piece about past conceptions of polymorphous perversity. I am writing this because I fit the definition. Oh, don’t think that I have not experienced erotic pleasure from the more traditional body parts that one would think to be the origins of a man’s sexual pleasure. It also doesn’t mean that a touch will automatically make me horny. However, a simple touch in the right place in the right way can give me personally some sensation that is akin to erotic pleasure.

The first time I had sex with Trey, I did not come, at least not in the obvious sense. However, he caressed my body all over in a way that I orgasmed with my whole body. And after that intense rush of endorphins, I felt tired. Yep! I came & then felt sleepy! And all without any penetration and with my bodily fluids intact.

I guess I am writing this because I think that it is a gift, not a perversion, that I have sensitive nipples, that a gentle caress of my back can make me swoon, or that butterfly kisses along my jawline below my ears could make my eyes roll back into my head. These are just a few examples. I firmly believe that the fact that I am comfortable with my entire body and its possibilities for pleasure are one of the reasons that I identify as bisexual. The tender hand or gentle lips that give that touch have no gender. However, I must also admit that, for me, the touch of someone to whom I am emotionally attracted increases the physical reaction I have.

I guess the issue for me is that, as in being bisexual, being able to feel pleasure at the touch of someone you care about, and not just a nice kiss or a stroke on the genitals (not that those are bad, mind you!), is something that I cherish and something that is often misunderstood by people who want clear boundaries. I deny and defy those boundaries. Of this, I am proud!

Anger Mode in Effect

It has been a trying couple of months. I have had a lot of work to do. Much is yet to be done. Still, I feel compelled to return to this blog. Recently, Michael Musto, in a seeming attempt to clutch furiously at his fourteenth minute, claimed that male bisexuals do not exist. A recent article on gay.com pondered the same possibility. Although many voices of all sexualities and gender identities called these writers on their bullshit, it continues to amaze me. Firstly, female sexuality is still treated as so enigmatic, or even "childish" as to be acknowledged and presupposed as fluid, allowing for female bisexuality as a manner of course. Secondly, male sexuality is treated as totalizing, fixed and immutable. Both of these views are not only unforgivably sexist but utterly dehumanizing to the core. I freely admit that my bisexuality is not "complete." That is to say that I do not have an equal attraction to both sexes/gender identities. This does not mean that I am not attracted to people of different genders. Recently a friend asked if it bothered me when he jokes about my bisexuality. Since I could only recall one instance of his joking, it made me wonder about the possible jokes he might have made behind my back... Still, he had indeed once fawned over some hot young guy on the college campus. I found the woman that this guy was with far more alluring, and made this desire known, since my friend had explained his libidinous urges. He retorted, "We get it! You're bi! Jeez!" I don't know what to make of this, since this is a friend, after all. This is a gay man who said this. What gives? Is there some extra requirement to get your queer card? Coming from someone I call friend and whom I do like a lot does actually make the joke I heard (& the ones I haven't) all the more surprising and hurtful. Why must I fight the gay community to be part of the communtiy--especially when the straights would often push me out as a matter of course? Marginalized by people I care about? Why don't they see that this is bullshit??

Dancing Days

I’ve said that I have been monogamous since dating Michelle and Matt. This is true. However, I have a bit of tale to tell. It’s part of my life; therefore, it reflects my identity as bisexual. Nonetheless, the principals (apart from me) were gay men, so it’s also a gay story.

I had been in a relationship with Trey for almost 2 years. I was completely in love with him. As I had felt with Ivan and with Corey, I felt complete. I was done; I was finished as far as relationships go. Trey & I went to a party hosted by some friends (granted, he knew them better than I did—they were in his department at the University of ____). NEWAZ, there were many people at this party. One of these fascinating people was someone else in Trey’s department—Joe. Joe was studying similar things that Trey was. He was from California like Trey was. The party was bustling, full of varied people talking of many things. I didn’t know many of these people, so I stuck pretty close to Trey & Ann & Peg (the hostesses). The ladies kept dragging Joe over to keep him talking to us all (he seemed a bit shy). The party lasted a while & eventually began to break up. At the end, it was only the 5 of us. Ann suggested that we all go clubbing. We went to a bar and talked, played pool, and drank—a lot. In the course of talking, it finally came out that Joe was gay. That was fine with me; my ‘dar had gone off earlier NEWAZ. I talked to him about coming out & the like. He talked with Trey about it too. Trey & Joe both chatted and joked with their department cohorts Ann & Peg. Joe kissed them—deeply. I thought that was rather funny. Even Trey kissed them! I must admit this bothered me a bit, even though I knew he had no interest in them. Peg thought this bar was dull & suggested we go to the gay club. We staggered that way, impelled by alcohol and a desire for a good time that didn't end.

We arrived at the gay bar. As is often the case, the place was dark and almost ominous. I don’t know why so many “gay bars” are lit like Purgatory or Dante’s Inferno, but they often seen to be some sort of descent… NEWAZ, we were there. We drank more, we talked, sort of, over the pumping, loud music. We danced. Trey & Joe again chatted up Ann & Peg & kissed them. I was a little miffed at this. We all danced—together and in pairs. At one point, Trey, Ann, & Peg went to get more drinks. Joe & I danced on the dancefloor. I saw Trey once again kiss Peg. I don't know if that “set me off” or what, but I did the “bar whisper”—yelling into Joe’s ear. “You guys kept kissing the girls in the straight club. Would you kiss a guy in the gay club?” I said this and realized that Trey had never kissed me in public. Despite that passing thought, Joe looked at me. His eyes may have been glazed, but there was no mistaking their message. We were still dancing, & he leaned in and kissed me. Now, I have been in complete love before. I have had some strictly carnal experiences before, but Joe’s kiss was the finest I have ever experienced—even to this day. He kissed me deeply. His tongue played with mine. My blood shot through my body quickly. Firmly. I cannot deny that his kiss made me hard almost instantly. I was so surprised that when our lips parted, I had to admit to him that that was the finest kiss I had ever experienced. Trey and Ann were now dancing near us & waving at us. Had Trey seen?? Joe looked at me, and his eyes looked downward. I guess my physical reaction was obvious. His hand patted my erection gently, with purpose. He leaned in & kissed me again. Again, the feeling of that kiss blew me away. After our lips parted again, he lowered his head & brushed his cheeks against the ever-growing bulge he had created. He turned around and began to grind is backside against my crotch. I couldn't then and cannot now deny the desire I had for him.

Still, something happened. He kissed my neck, although that, too, made me desire him even more. I told him, “You know, I want you so bad, but my heart is promised to another.” My nod indicated Trey. Joe looked at Trey and then he looked back at me. He didn't say much, but he did imply that Trey need never know, that maybe Joe were the right one for me not Trey. Still, my love for Trey was paramount. Ann & Trey danced over and we switched partners. I was dancing with my beloved. Trey for the first time kissed me in public. I was lost for however many minutes that lasted. All I wanted at that moment was to make love with Trey. To be with him forever. I told him that Joe & I had kissed. Trey said, “Really? That’s hot!” That was all he ever said about it. After the night broke up, Joe would barely look at me or Trey. We all went home, and Trey & I made love. I woke up in his arms and shuddered with a wondrous delight when I awoke in those same arms.

Later (much later), I found out a few things. Although Trey was out to Ann & Peg, he had never said that he was in a relationship. Ann & Peg had been trying to set Trey and Joe up at that party! I also found out that, not long after that party, Joe pursued Trey secretly. Trey apparently did not cheat on me then (that came later!), but he also apparently did not deny the possibility as quickly as I had, although their communications were through the then-still-new medium of e-mail. Trey confessed part to me, and Joe told me more later. I forgave them both, but, given other things that I eventually learned, I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had followed my hormones/desire that night instead of my heart. I realize that my heart would always have won out, but it paid its own price for loving Trey. I have not been in a true relationship since we broke up. I miss being in a relationship, but sometimes I think I am too frightened of the devastating hurt caused by betrayal and relationship’s end. Loneliness, however, has its own kinds of hurt. I guess I’m still working on a lot of those issues…

Sexual Identity & Orientation

The other day, some friends of mine were discussing the various terms and slang words used by and sometimes against the LGBTQI community. Some of these terms were new to each of us. Some terms that we used with abandon were not in the list we were looking at. What really made the discussion memorable was when a friend noticed that, although they had several similar terms, the term “versatile” was absent. Since both he and I are what would be termed versatile, we found that a bit interesting. Another friend posited that perhaps that such a thing as that should be listed as part of one’s sexual identity/orientation because it is perhaps even a better definition of who one is sexually than just the gender of the one(s) to whom you are attracted. She was wanting to stimulate debate, but the other guy abruptly went on with reading the list. She brought it up again, noting how funny it was that he not only let that thought die, but that he had kind of killed it. He went straight to reading more terms. Although that provoked laughter, I think her remark was very interesting—even sagacious, because it shows just how irrelevant someone’s private sexuality between consenting adults should be to anyone else. It should not be a piqued subject of inquiry about another person. “Is she straight? Is he gay? Is s/he the dominant one in a relationship?” What one does in bed may partially define you, but it does not solely define you. Why should that matter to anyone else but you and your partner (or partners)?

The Story of Corey

Sometime after my relationship with Matt ended (I admit that it did not really end at the Christmas break that I alluded to earlier), I met Corey. Corey was a friend of a very devout Christian friend of mine. She had a weird sense of humor, much like mine, but different enough to come up with even more bizarre angles while looking askance at the world. I also thought she was beautiful in body as well. She had dark blonde hair that was shoulder-length. Her green eyes lit up a room. As did her smile, and her laugh was strong (not loud) and flowed like honey. We hung out together a few times and then we decided to go out. I told her about my past with Michelle…and with Matt. She didn’t care! We grew closer. We did not go all the way for some time into dating, but when we did, it was amazing. Corey’s clitoral hood would swell when she was getting aroused. Her clitoris was a bit bigger—a bit phallic. She had been worried that a man would find that…problematic. Not so much of a problem for me. I don’t know if straight guys have issues or what, but it was nice to have a visible cue to what might be working to stimulate her that had not happened with Michelle. I loved Corey, & I enjoyed making love with her. I even thought about proposing.

I dated Corey for around 2 years. Some people say that sex is not that big of a deal for a woman. Corey could exhaust you! She once had us both going—carefully but passionately—for around 5 hours. At the end of those 5 hours, she was able to do some things with her internal muscles that made me shudder and orgasm for almost 30 minutes, even though the act of ejaculation did not take that long. She could find and caress the most erogenous zones of my body. Thanks to her, I learned that the insides of my knees and elbows can turn me to jelly when stimulated just right. She was always kind about my performance, but she always blew me away. She was also the first person who would kiss me in various and exciting ways. Michelle and I would kiss in the same way almost every time; it was very nice but not so varied. Matt was sloppy and exciting, but Corey could balance the sloppy passion with the romantic sweetness that I grew to cherish more than any other type of kiss.

Corey & I didn’t really have a lot in common apart from our skewed humor and sex. When it grew closer to her graduation date (she was a year older than me), we began to recognize that we loved each other but that didn’t really know why. I had always felt like I had met the one I was destined to spend the rest of my life with, but somehow things also seemed…off…at the end. We also realized that she would be moving on soon to grad school far from ____________. Although we remained close and continued to explore our sexuality, we also began to drift apart as her senior year progressed. In May, we both knew that we couldn’t really continue like this. We had what amounted to breakup sex on her graduation day, and it was amazing. Nevertheless, my relationship with Corey waned and came to an end. She was the last woman I loved utterly both body and soul. That was some time ago, even if she wasn’t my last love or the last woman I was intimate with. I sometimes ponder what could have been, but I loved what we had. You will always have part of my heart, Corey!