Cheaters, Young People, and Advice for the “Straight-Looking”

The Hairpin
The Hairpin
Published in
11 min readOct 14, 2011

by Lindsay Miller

I have a question about exes, specifically the idea (stereotype?) that all lady lovers are able to remain friends with their former lady loves. My current lady is on friendly terms with her ex girlfriend, something I am mostly cool with. It’s not a jealously thing as much as it’s a your-ex-is-a-giant-d-bag thing. They talk occasionally and we run into her at the various gay clubs in town, as there is a limited selection. We also hang with a crowd of their exes every once in a while. They have a whole L Word-Chart-BFF-with-my-ex sort of thing going on, which is fine with me.

However, I am not friends with my last gf, and when I initially mentioned that to my lady she assumed that meant I still harbor feelings for my ex. Now, prior to her comment, that had not been my opinion of the situation. Mostly because my last relationship had been very serious and long term, there was cheating (not on my part) and truthfully I have felt like I’d just rather not deal with someone who did me wrong. Right? In addition, my ex has recently started texting me and making an effort to build that bridge to Friendship Land. I tried to do the friendly conversation thing but I am not sure how I feel about being friends with someone who broke my heart/has seen me naked. She was my first love and was very important to me for a long period of time, so sometimes I feel bad for not making the effort to be her friend.

Am I being immature for not wanting to make friends and throw dinner parties with my lady and the ex and her lady? How do you know if you can/should be friends with an ex? And if yes, how do you approach that new/old relationship? Please help me, Queer Chick!

I had to read your letter like eight times to make sure I was understanding it correctly. Your girlfriend is concerned because you aren’t close enough friends with your ex? How is that even a thing? Jesus Christ, your girlfriend! Does she not understand how many dykes would lie, cheat, and kill for a chance at a ladyfriend like you? She hit the freaking jackpot. Not that there’s anything wrong with staying friends after a breakup (so hold your hate mail, every lesbian who didn’t write this letter), but it can certainly be a source of awkwardness when you’re out at the bar with your crew and you can’t stop silently playing “How Many of These People Have Seen My Girlfriend’s O-Face?” On behalf of millions of lady-loving ladies the world over, please tell your girlfriend to stop freaking out and enjoy the fact that she’s banging a hottie who doesn’t invite her former lovers for dinner.

Being friends with an ex is cool if that’s your thing, but it is definitely not a requirement for being a healthy, shit-together-having grown lady. And it’s extra-definitely not a requirement when the skank cheated on you! That is a total Do Not Pass Go, Do Not Collect Your Stuff From My Place Because I Have Smashed It All With a Hammer situation. That is not someone you need to feel guilty about not wanting to be friends with.

So why is your girlfriend pushing this issue? I have a couple of ideas, but none of them are very complimentary to her, because for real, what sane person? Maybe she’s some kind of wacky drama addict who’s not happy unless she’s fighting with her lady about something ridiculous. Maybe she’s been cheated on before, and she’s paranoid. Or maybe (and I’m sorry to say something that might result in you becoming paranoid) she’s projecting her nonsense onto you because she still has feelings for her ex. Ugh, I don’t know, she’s being really unreasonable and I’m mad at her, but maybe she’s actually not terrible. Maybe because she and her ex are besties and she enjoys that relationship so much, she’s just really evangelical about the joys of hanging out with someone you used to sleep with? That’s still kind of bizarre and intrusive, but at least she’s trying to be nice.

But no matter what her deal is, you’re going to have to tell her to back off. You’re not trying to ruin her friendships, so she needs to stop trying to push you into ones that you don’t want. If she won’t take “you’re not the boss of me” for an answer, you may need to reconsider whether this is the right relationship for you.

Queer Chick, I really need some advice. I’ve been with my boyfriend for five years, since I was 15. He was my first love and he is amazing — we have great sex, we have a lot of fun hanging out together, and he’s basically the best friend I’ve ever had. The trouble is, I’m bisexual, and the thought of settling down with him without ever having the chance to be with a woman scares me. On the one hand, I could see myself marrying this man and he makes me really happy, so why throw that away for the sake of fooling around a bit? But on the other hand, can I really go my whole life without ever expressing that side of my sexuality? I really wish I’d had time to experiment a little bit in my teens and that I’d met him later, when I was ready to settle down. Threesomes or an open relationship or anything like that is totally out of the question with him. What do you think?

I think that you are very young, and he is your first boyfriend, and so you should probably hold off on making any lifelong commitments for a few more years anyway. But, with that caveat in mind, I am going to do something that is extremely out of character for me: I am going to tell you that you can live a long and happy life without ever sexing up a lady.

God, I KNOW, I don’t even want to imagine it either! But the thing is, “exploring that side of my sexuality” gets a lot more consideration than maybe it deserves, when talking about long-term monogamy. Being bisexual and committing to a relationship in which you won’t ever get to fuck girls is not really that different, I think, from being straight and committing to a relationship in which you won’t ever get to fuck other dudes. Anyone who decides to stay with the same person for the rest of her life is ruling out a lot of other sexual experiences — including some that she wants, or at least that she would want if it wouldn’t mean sacrificing her relationship. I, for example, will never get to explore the side of my sexuality that wants to have a four-way with everyone who used to be in Sleater-Kinney. Monogamy is challenging sometimes. But if it’s worth it, then it’s worth it.

Even if you met your boyfriend 10 years down the line, marrying him would still involve forsaking all other potential sex partners. And you would probably feel just as freaked out by it as you do now. It’s scary to contemplate the possibility of never again getting some strange — especially at your age, when many of your friends are probably getting in touch with their inner ho-bag and having all kinds of adventures. The chance to experiment can look insanely tempting, and I would never tell anyone they don’t deserve a few youthful indiscretions. But the decision you need to make (eventually! no rush! take all the time you need!) is not, “Can I go my whole life without fucking a girl?” but “Is this man the person I want to spend my whole life fucking?” And if you decide (eventually!) that he is, then not eating pussy will seem like a small price to pay.

I am a college-aged woman who recently came to the conclusion that I am bisexual (though I now prefer the term queer after reading your column about the terminology). It couldn’t have happened at a better time, as I was in the midst of a wonderfully diverse group of colleagues, many of whom are queer and were wonderful support. What I have since come to realize, though, is that whether I prefer men or women seems to change with the season/time of the month/group of friends I am around/country I am in/etc. I go back and forth between convincing myself that I’m only doubting my queerness because of where I am and convincing myself that I only came to see myself as queer because of where I was. More than anything, I am completely freaked that I will one day start a relationship with either a man or a woman and later realize (during a different time of the month, in a different location, etc.) that my partner can’t give me what I need.

I am worried that I will never be able to find a partner that can fulfill me for more than a period of time, because I will soon be changing my mind. I realize that open relationships are an option, but I really don’t think that they would work for me emotionally. I fall closer to the straight end of the spectrum, so I usually conclude that I will just have to be content with relationships with men (whom I never completely lose interest in) and only enjoy sexy times with hot chicks whenever I’m single (and into them).

The other big question I have been turning over in my mind is whether or not I need to come out. In my family, it would be a process, and I’m worried that I will go through it and then be all, “Oh, just kidding, everyone. I think I only like dudes.” And then repeat.

One more fun detail to throw in the mix is that I am actually still a virgin. I have had semi-sexual experiences (meaning making out with some very lovely touch and feel) with both sexes and enjoyed both. However, I haven’t had full-blown sex with anyone (and want the first time to be part of a relationship), so I don’t know exactly where I stand on that.

In your column about the word queer, you said that maybe the most appropriate description of your sexuality would be, “bisexual with a strong preference for lady-sex.” I am kind of the same except that I prefer men, so do you have any advice or experience to share?

It sounds to me as if you — like the letter writer above — are sort of inadvertently using your queerness as a scapegoat for your general relationship/commitment-phobia issues. You’re young, you’ve never had sex, and you’re not sure what kind of person you want to pursue a long-term relationship with. That makes you literally the most normal person ever in the history of the world. That you go back and forth between ladies and dudes is really just a minor wrinkle.

So you’re worried that you’ll commit to someone and then later realize they’re not right for you, leading to complications and hurt feelings. Well, let me go ahead and ease your mind: That is definitely going to happen. It would happen if you were 100% gay, or 100% straight. It’s part of the growing-up-and-figuring-out-what-you-want-out-of-all-this process. It happens to everyone — fall head over heels for someone, go through ridiculous contortions trying to attract them, a week later be like “Oh Jesus, are you seriously putting mayonnaise on your French fries, I’m out.” Until you meet the Last Person You’ll Ever See Naked, all of your relationships are going to end in tears, recriminations, and disappointment. It’s fine, don’t stress about it too much.

As far as coming out to your family, if you think it’s going to be a big, emotionally draining Thing, it might be in your best interest to wait until you’re fairly sure, by which I mean until you’ve boinked a girl and are confident that that’s a life path you intend to pursue. Also, prepare for the possibility that if you come out, then start dating a guy, they will decide that it was all a phase and put it out of their minds, necessitating another coming-out speech the next time you want to bring a lady home. (True story: I had to come out to my mother three times before it finally stuck.) So as far as I’m concerned, feel free to continue putting it off until there is a specific lady you’re serious about.

But aside from that, I think you should go ahead and date whatever girl or boy you are interested in (who is interested in you back, obviously — no fair using hypnosis). If you lose your boner for him/her a few months in, oh well, try to be as nice as possible during the breakup, then get out there and try again. You’ll start to get a sense of what kind of relationship you want, and how important genital configuration really is to your future happiness. And hopefully, eventually, you’ll find someone for whom your boner is strong and unflagging through thick and thin.

I’m a “straight-looking” queer femme and I need advice on how to approach cute butch girls (my type) outside of lesbian spaces. Meaning, what do I say when I see a lovely butch woman swaggering down the street/sitting in the cafe/riding the train? I’d like to somehow communicate that I am gay and interested without seeming presumptuous about her sexual orientation. Because, much to my dismay, not all super handsome, super masculine women are queer. I hate when men hit on me assuming I’m straight, so I don’t want to put someone else in that situation, you know?

- High Femme says Hi, Butch

First of all, it’s not really standard practice around here to include people’s sign-offs in the advice columns, but I’m preserving yours because it’s just so darn cute!

Second of all, introducing yourself to a total stranger in a public space is dicey. Some people straight-up do not want to be bothered, at all, ever, and you need to respect that: If the lady of your affections in resolutely not looking up from her book, or has headphones on, or gives a one-word answer to your opening line without making eye contact, just go back to what you were doing.

Even if she seems receptive to your conversational overtures, the absolute last thing you want to do is “communicate that [you are] gay and interested” the moment you open your mouth. If you make it clear that you want to see her naked before you’ve learned her name, she is going to perceive you as creepy and you are never going to get into her boxer briefs. So you — and every other person hoping to pick up hot strangers — have to lie through your teeth and act like you have not even noticed how amazing her ass looks in those jeans. Just say “hi, I’ve seen you here before, haven’t I?” or “that’s a great t-shirt, I love that band!” or something else completely sexually neutral. If that leads to conversation, awesome! Then you can start to look for openings to mention your lady-loving ways. “You’re from Austin? I used to date a girl from Austin. How long have you lived here?” Just be cool about it and try not to salivate too much.

If she’s feeling you too, she’ll probably take the first available opportunity to let it slip that she’s a big ole homo — UNLESS she assumes that her butchdom already makes it obvious. Either way, once you have established yourself as a card-carrying non-creeper, you might as well go ahead and ask for her number. If she gives it to you, she’s either a total dyke, or the most clueless straight chick ever. And if you call her up a few days later and ask her out, her answer should help to clear up any remaining ambiguity. Good luck!

Previously: Marriage, the Word “Queer,” and “Is My Boyfriend Gay?”

Lindsay Miller knows everything. Do you have a question for A Queer Chick?

Photo by Anna Sedneva, via Shutterstock

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