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Savage Love

Is there a term that is preferred to “transgendered”? I recently wrote an article that described a MTF person I know as transgendered. The article was positive about transgendered persons I have known (she is one of many). Upon seeing a draft prior to publication, this person flipped out so hard that I felt compelled to cut off all contact with her. I also killed the article. One of her complaints was that I used the word “transgendered” to describe her, and she identifies as something other than that.

I’m a 34-year-old straight female. I am morbidly obese and have been for most of my life. I have never dated. I’ve been on a couple of dates, and only when I asked the guy out. From reading your columns and books, I am aware that some men are attracted to fat women. But since I never received any real sexual attention as a teen/twentysomething, I don’t know how to deal with men in a sexual way or in a way that would develop into a relationship. I also think my (lack of) experience has caused me to become bitter toward men.

DEAR READERS: Sophia Wallace, the NYC-based conceptual artist behind the amazing Cliteracy project, was a guest on my podcast recently. (To hear our conversation, go to savagelovecast.com and look up episode 371.) During our chat, Wallace told me that a column I wrote years ago about the importance of the clit had a big impact on her as a teenager — in fact, she still had the copy of the column that she had clipped out of the newspaper.

I’ve talked to my girlfriends, my mom, and his mom, but I need some unbiased advice. I’m a 28-year-old woman in a relationship for 3.5 years with a wonderful man, also 28. I hit the jackpot: He is loving, sweet, kind, driven, active, handsome, generous, etc. We’re very committed to each other and planning our future together. We’ve lived together for 2.5 years. Life is so great! Enter the issue: We’ve been discussing marriage since January of this year. Until May, he was opposed to it.

I’m a straight woman who loves my boyfriend, but sex isn’t a priority for me. His sex drive, on the other hand, is ridiculous. He gets very upset when I don’t have sex with him and accuses me of not being interested in him anymore, which isn’t the case. I just can’t fuck on demand! Most people would probably say that my boyfriend is an insensitive asshole for pressuring me for sex. Except this was a switcheroo exercise: I, the girlfriend, want more sex. He, my boyfriend, doesn’t see sex as a priority.

I’m a bi woman in my mid-20s in a great monogamish relationship with my straight boyfriend. We occasionally invite other women into our sex life, which is really enjoyable for both of us. He isn’t threatened by other women, only by other men, which isn’t an issue since I’m not interested in any other men. So on the occasions when we find a lady we’re both into who’s also into us, anything goes, and it’s awesome. We’ve hooked up with both friends and strangers, but always as a couple because it makes us both feel safe.

I recently ended a relationship that lasted a year and five months. While I loved this woman, for much of the relationship she was, to varying degrees, depressed. I tried to be as helpful and patient as possible with the hope and expectation that she would get better. I got her into counseling. We went to couples counseling together. She got on medication. I encouraged her to eat well (I cooked her many healthy meals) and exercise daily (which she was never able to do). I tried to get her out into nature. I tried to listen and practice strong communication skills.

I’m a heterosexual guy in my early 20s. I’ve been dating my girlfriend for about six months, and we’ve been having some fights recently. The problem: I have a high sex drive in comparison to hers. I want to be intimate on a weekly basis (at least!), and she’s told me that she’s more of a once-every-three-weeks-or-so person. I’m trying not to put pressure on her. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable — she’s a virgin (no penetration), and the thought of the pain of that first time scares her a bit.

Why am I such a slut?

Girl, Corrupted

 

Are you a slut?

Or are you a woman who loves sex, has a high libido, and has consensual sex with a lot of willing and grateful partners? Those are all traits for which culture wouldn’t conspire to leave you feeling conflicted or compelled to slap a pejorative label on yourself — if you were a dude, gay or straight.

I am a kinky, youthful 72-year-old guy. I grew up in the Pleistocene era, when there was virtually no way to meet a kinky woman. I’ve had two vanilla marriages, and three months ago I ended a four-year vanilla relationship with the best woman I’ve ever met. I just couldn’t take not being a BDSM person anymore, and I broke up with this wonderful woman so I could do BDSM. I’ve had some fun, but no candidate for a possible LTR has come along. In the meantime, my most recent ex (I’ll call her “Mel”) and I have both been bereft over our split.

Two years ago, I found a letter in my sister’s car informing her that the blood she gave during a charity blood drive had tested positive for HIV. I didn’t say anything to her at the time, because it was a really bad time, I wasn’t supposed to find out, and I didn’t know what to say. In the time since, there were a couple times that it sounded like she came close to telling me, but never did. I worry she never will.

My girlfriend always responds positively when I initiate sex with her, but she hardly ever initiates sex with me. I’m a no-beat-around-the-bush kind of guy, but I realize that this can be a sensitive topic, and I don’t want to scare her by saying, “Please initiate sex more often!” So I do small things to coax her and let her know that I want her to initiate. I will lotion up in front of her after we shower.

My boyfriend and I have been together for two years and we live together. Recently, his ex was killed in a car accident. They were not on good terms, and he often made scathing statements about her. I made the mistake of saying the following several days after her death (after offering him my sympathy on numerous occasions): “I don’t know how to help you grieve in this situation because you didn’t like her.” Obviously, that was a stupid, careless thing to say. I apologized numerous times, and he said that he forgave me. Fast-forward two weeks.

I visited Halifax, Nova Scotia, last week — for my geographically illiterate fellow Americans, Halifax is the biggest city on Canada’s Atlantic coast — to help celebrate the 20th anniversary of the founding of the Coast, Halifax’s kick-ass alternative weekly newspaper. The paper brought me to town to do Savage Love Live. I took questions for two hours in the auditorium of a brand-new Halifax high school that has a full bar.

I am a straight male, 30, in a long-term monogamous relationship. I love my wife, we have good sex, and often. When we first got together, I had a mild foot fetish, and she has gorgeous pedis. We have done and still do foot play on occasion. But my fetish has grown stronger as time has passed, and I have grown thirstier for her appendages. They are all I can think about. I am still willing to do everything with my partner and make sure she is satisfied. I don’t want anyone else, and the relationship is wonderful other than this issue.

I’m a 23-year-old homo who came out one year ago. Life has done good and bad things to me. Good things include success in the intelligence lottery, a full ride to college, and now a job with a six-figure income. Sadly, I find that my place in life is different from the place occupied by most other young gay men.

My question is one of etiquette. My lesbian wife and I live in an apartment. The noise pollution between flats can be pretty bad. Anyone who lives in the building is aware of this, and keeping noise down after certain hours is a common courtesy. I wouldn’t play loud music after a certain hour, or let doors slam, or break out the drum kit. If any of these things happen after around 11:30 p.m. on a work night, I don’t think I’d feel any qualms about going around to whoever is being inconsiderate and asking them to keep it down. But what about noisy sex?

I’m a Savage Lovecast listener, but I’m sending this question to your column because my boyfriend would FOR SURE recognize my voice if I called the show. I’m 25, I live in Portland, and my boyfriend and I have been monogamous for five years. His dick is of average size. It’s not small enough for him to have dealt with the emotional baggage associated with “small dicks.” Yet, I’ve had sex with big dicks, and I would love to try one of those dick sheaths or extenders or whatever.

Settle this for us, Dan? Which is the bigger ask: a one-time, once-in-a-lifetime threesome or regular (and pretty damn elaborate) bondage sessions?

Ruling On Private Enquiry Required

I’m a cute, mostly straight, twentysomething, single, and (safely) sexually active woman. This happens to me pretty often: I hook up with a guy, we start fooling around, and we’re both really into it. I reach down, and he’s full sail. Things progress — clothes come off, etc. — and, as is generally the polite order of things, the lady comes first. (This isn’t the problem.) I’m not aggressive, but I’m not shy. I tell a partner what I like and how to do it. They are always happy to oblige.

I recently discovered that my 14-year-old stepson, who lives with us full-time, has been stealing, wearing, soiling, and hiding his toddler sister’s pull-ups. I’ve found them after he hides them in his closet, which also serves as a general storage area. After discussions with him, I’m certain that wearing them is a pleasure thing for him. (He says “curiosity,” but this has been going on so long that he knows what it feels like.) He has even stolen some of the neighbor girl’s Baby Alive doll diapers to wear and soil.

Dear readers: Two excellent writers stepped in to answer the Savage Love Letter of the Day while I was on vacation, and I wanted to share two of their responses in the column this week. (The SLLOTD appears daily—cough, cough—on Slog, The Stranger’s blog, and is blasted out to folks who have the Savage Love app.) First up is Daniel Bergner. He’s the award-winning author of four books of nonfiction. His newest book is What Do Women Want?

I'm a 25-year-old male. After a tragic set of circumstances, I am now the legal guardian of my 15-year-old brother. He's gay. Fortunately, our parents took care of "the talk" and taught him how to use condoms. Unfortunately, he has started dating a senior at his school who is about to turn 18 and is a fucking sleazeball. You know the type: entitled, narcissistic LA type, drives a BMW paid for by his rich parents. This asshole has no respect for my brother.

I am a 28-year-old gay man living in a major East Coast city. I recently connected with a guy on a vanilla dating website, and we are quickly developing a real interest in each other. After talking online for a bit, we exchanged numbers. Our first conversation was through text messages for the better part of six hours. The next night, we talked over the phone for an hour or two. And the third consecutive night was our first date.