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Eugene Weekly : Savage Love : 3.31.11




DEAR READERS: Folks who have the Savage Love app get the Savage Love Letter of the Day (SLLOTD) delivered to their iPhones or Androids. This week, IÍm running three recent SLLOTDs to give my print-only readers a taste of what theyÍre missing. IÍm also giving myself a bit of a break: IÍm currently dashing around the country on a book tour for It Gets Better: Coming Out, Overcoming Bullying, and Creating a Life Worth Living. (Order yourself a copy „ or donate one to your old middle or high school „ at www.itgetsbetter.org.) But before we get to the letters ƒæ

I want to take this opportunity to thank Savage Love readers for launching the It Gets Better Project.

My husband and I created the project in response to the suicides of several LGBT youth. The idea was to give bullied and despairing LGBT youth hope for their futures by encouraging LGBT adults to reach out to them via YouTube. (For the record: Not all LGBT youth are bullied or despairing.) The It Gets Better Project was first announced in this space. Savage Love readers jumped in to help spread the word about the project on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitter, and Savage Love readers created the very first wave of IGBP videos. Savage Love readers are responsible for making the It Gets Better Project the international phenomenon it is today and, more importantly, for helping to save the lives of countless LGBT kids.

Whether itÍs taking on a bigot like Rick Santorum, coming to the defense of Constance McMillen, or jumping in to help bullied LGBT teenagers, my readers and listeners are a force to be reckoned with. Thanks for all you do.



My fianc³ is awesome. IÍm very happy we are getting married. We are in our early 30s. But ƒæ he has tantrums. When he gets upset, he literally throws things, punches things (never me), and screams obscenities. What makes him upset? Losing his keys, being overcharged at the supermarket, missing the subway. These moments are humiliating for me. On top of that, I had an abusive father who hit me and, though my fianc³ would never in a million years hit or abuse me, his tantrums remind me of those childhood experiences.

I have tentatively broached the subject of therapy, but he is not interested. I donÍt know what to do.

Frustrated Fianc³e

He hasnÍt hit you ƒæ yet.

IÍm not saying heÍll definitely get around to hitting you, FF, but a man who goes apeshit when he misses the subway is likely to go apeshit on his wife sooner or later. Marriages are more stressful than commutes. And IÍm sorry, but itÍs a disturbing sign that youÍre already tiptoeing around this guy (ñI have tentatively broached the subjectî) and making excuses for him (ñMy fianc³ would never in a million years hit or abuse meî).

Emergency rooms, divorce courts, and graveyards are filled with women who once said, ñMy fianc³ would never in a million years hit me.î

The time for tentative broaching has passed, FF, and the time for confrontational confronting and ultimatums has arrived: He gets his ass into therapy and gets a grip on his anger issues, or the wedding is off. And this canÍt be about seeing a therapist once or twice to mollify you. He has to solve this problem before you pick out cake toppers. And if he wonÍt get help, or if he canÍt solve this problem even with help, do not marry him.



IÍm female, bi, mid-20s, into kink „ bedroom-only BDSM stuff „ and involved in the local kink scene in NYC. IÍm not into public sex or group sex; thatÍs just not appealing to me. One of my closest friends is having a birthday party. Most people do a bar crawl, but this friend is hosting a straight-up orgy. I donÍt want to be a no-show „ itÍs her birthday! „ but sitting around fully dressed, trying to make small talk with someone while a fisting scene is taking place two feet away? AWKWARD. I thought about going for the first half, while people are drinking, and leaving before it turns into an orgy. But what excuse could I give to bail?

Wallflower At The Orgy

How about the truth?

If youÍre mature enough to be a part of NYCÍs kink scene, youÍre mature enough to say this to your friend: ñI love you, but orgies just arenÍt my thing. IÍll be at your party „ I wouldnÍt miss it! „ but IÍm going to quietly slip out before the first fist disappears into the first orifice.î

If anyone should be able to hear that without taking offense, WATO, itÍs a member of an organized kink scene. All organized kinksters ask of each other is an open mind about kinks generally, thoughtfulness about consent and safety specifically, and clarity about boundaries absolutely. No one in a kink scene expects that all kinks „ and group play is a kink „ appeal to all kinksters equally.

So go to the party, wish your friend a happy birthday, then head for the door when you hear the snap of the first latex glove.



I am a 28-year-old woman, living in a town with a big military base. About a year ago, I noticed this really torn-up-looking guy sitting by himself in a bar. It turned out his wife had just been deployed and was going to be gone for nine months. He said he didnÍt think heÍd make it. We wound up having sex. I moved in a few days after that. The whole thing revolved around nobody asking questions. Over time, I fell in love with him, and I thought he fell in love with me. If I thought about the future, I told myself heÍd leave his wife for me.

Yesterday, he woke up and said, ñItÍs over. SheÍs coming home today.î I was crying and crying while he kept coming up with these unbelievable lines: we had a good thing, heÍd miss my love, I should try to remember the magic. Then he told me to look away so he wouldnÍt have to watch me crying!

I know I was a fool, Dan, but who was the bigger jerk?

Sad Eyes

Seeing as you spent the last nine months attempting to be the author of someone elseÍs misery „ his wifeÍs misery „ only to wind up being the author of your own, SE, itÍs kind of hard to feel sorry for you. I suppose you deserve some credit for acknowledging that youÍre a jerk „ you did, after all, ask me to determine which one of you is the bigger jerk „ but I gotta say that your jerkiness is the kind that makes me want to break out my brand-new-asshole-carving knife.

But heÍs the bigger jerk.

My reasoning: He took up with another woman during his wifeÍs absence, and he allowed this other woman to move into the home he shared with his wife. The other woman avoided conversations about the future because she was afraid of finding out that she didnÍt have one; he avoided conversations about the future because he was afraid the other woman would pack up her pussy and leave if he told her she didnÍt have one. And then he tossed the other woman out on her ass the very day his wife returned to the States, giving her very little time to make other living arrangements.

That makes him the bigger jerk, IMO. You both deserve new assholes „ but he deserves a slightly bigger one.

 

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