DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I (m/26, gay, in a queer-friendly major metropolitan city) have literally just left my date’s apartment and I don’t know what to do.
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Let me set the scene for you. Right before COVID, my boyfriend of five years dumped me and I spent the lockdown mostly alone aside from friends that I’d see while social distancing. After I got the vaccine early (hooray for being a smoker I guess) I tried to have a slut phase except a) I discovered casual sex leaves me feeling really weird and disgusted with myself and it sunk me into a deep depression and b) I got an easily treatable STI which made me more depressed since I took it as a confirmation from God that I shouldn’t be getting f--ked by strangers.
Fast forward two years of intense therapy and realizing I may be demisexual, I finally decide to dip back into dating. I don’t know if you know much about gay dating, Doc but finding guys who were going to be cool with my not wanting to f--k immediately was hard. Like, enforced dry spell, getting ghosted when I say sex isn’t on the table, wondering why I’m doing this hard.
Well, I finally meet a guy, on the apps even. He’s GORGEOUS GEORGE, like my physical ideal, he’s sweet, he’s thoughtful and oh my God he was cool with giving me time to get comfortable and see if we have a connection. Everything seems like God is smiling back down on me after the mess I made of myself and we get to the point where we’re finally going to hook up.
And the sex was awful. Like, really, REALLY awful. Like not even “ok, we’re new to each other and figuring things out together,” not “well, it’s been a while so I’m a little out of practice”, not even “we’re both bottoms so one of us has to try to be vers”. It was “Praise Gay Jesus I was wearing a condom so I could pretend I came”.
Fine, whatever, momma didn’t raise any quitters, OFC I’m going to try again. Maybe it was just a bad night and we can do better the next time. But no, it’s legitimately awful, I couldn’t even pretend to be into it and I had to act like I couldn’t get hard because oops we had too much to drink let me give you a quick handie and we can cuddle and not speak of this again.
And then I woke up early and did my walk of shame. I snuck out like his parents were in the next room with the door open and I called an Uber a block away just in case he looked out the window.
Doc, I know I said I’m demi and I know I’m probably still carrying baggage from my slut phase but I NEED good sex if I’m going to date someone. I need to get d--ked down like a champion by my theoretical boyfriend and this is not it and I don’t have it in me to try a third time just for it to still be bad.
The part that I hate is that I can’t even pretend like he’s a selfish pig face, he was so concerned for my pleasure and listened to me and wanted to know what kinds of things I liked and how I liked it and was so good about doing exactly what I asked for and it. WAS. HORRIBLE.
So now I feel awful because I made this guy wait and now I know I can’t actually date him because the sex shows improvement. It’s just BAD. I really like him but if I can’t f--k him I can’t do a relationship with him and I don’t know what to say. I honestly think I would ghost him just to avoid the awkwardness if I wasn’t 110% sure I’d be going to the special hell for it. I know I’m going to break his heart and he doesn’t deserve it.
What do I do, Doc? Give me the prescription, please!
Never Gonna Get It
DEAR NEVER GONNA GET IT: There’s nothing like the cold cruel irony of finally getting what you want, exactly how you asked for it and realizing that sometimes God’s cruelest joke is when we get what we ask for.
This is why irony, not gravity, is the strongest force in the universe.
So right off the bat, let me give you the credit you aren’t giving yourself. First and foremost: you hit a rough patch with some seriously inconvenient timing, you’ve done your best to get through it and you’re not letting having been thrown from the horse keep you from getting back in the saddle again.
Er… as it were.
This is part of why I don’t think you should be down on yourself for your “slut phase”. Leaving aside that there’s nothing wrong with being a slut if that’s your thing, let’s be honest: after a year of being cooped up during one of the most tumultuous years possible – death! Plague! Isolation! The threat of the end of democracy! A watching a f--king insurrection happen live before our eyes! – it’s not really that surprising that lot of people went full feral after everyone started getting vaccinated and we could go outside again. I’m not kidding when I say on my first night out and about I literally saw people f--king in the streets.
One of the most common reactions to feeling so much death all around us is… well, to reject death in the most obvious way. Sex is, in its way, a reaffirmation of life. Beyond the procreative aspect of it, it’s a form of connection and intimacy, forming a bond with another person – even if it’s only for a night as we push death away.
(And let’s be real: a whole lot of people had a metric s--tload of frustration to work out.)
I think it is more important to look at it this way: sometimes the path to wisdom is through the road of excess. You learned a lot about yourself, you made a couple of mistakes and drew a short straw (which, thankfully, wasn’t as bad as it could have been) and now you know more about yourself than you did before. You know what doesn’t work for you, what you need and you are actually willing to ask for it, which is pretty damn big. Especially in a dating culture where you were having a difficult time finding people who were on the same page as you, sexually.
By the same token: sexual compatibility is vitally important in a relationship. If you’re a very sexual person, and you clearly are, you want someone who is at least mostly in alignment with your needs. If the sex doesn’t work, especially at the beginning, the relationship itself isn’t going to work. And in this case, the sex really doesn’t work. You get credit for giving it the ol’ college try and making sure that it wasn’t just one bad night… but it still isn’t working for you and there’s just no hope on the horizon that things will change. You are absolutely allowed to make sex a priority in your relationships, even if it takes you a while to get to the point where you’re ready to have it.
It really sucks that this didn’t work out and it’s a credit to you that you don’t want to hurt this guy’s feelings. But honestly, what’re your other options? Try to grin and bear it while lying back and thinking of Timothée Chalamet for the next 20 years rather than saying “it’s not working for me?”
As tempting as I’m sure it is to just ghost him, I honestly feel like you should do him the respect of telling him that it’s not working for you. You don’t have to say “look, your dick game was weak” or “the idea of f--king you again makes my skin want to crawl off my body”; all you have to say is “I like you, and I had a good time with you, and I wish things were different, but I don’t think we’re right for each other and I don’t see that changing. I wish you the best of luck”. Give him that much, so at least he knows that it’s over and that he didn’t do anything so horrible that you couldn’t stand to face him. Don’t drag it out, don’t make a scene and if you possibly can, do him the courtesy of at least telling him in person. If you can’t, that’s ok… just keep it short, quick and clean. Don’t make anything that sounds like a promise to try again later, don’t give him false hope that maybe things could change in the future. You want to close the door to this as firmly as possible. The clean break heals the fastest and you owe him that much at least.
He may want to know the dirty details. I would suggest sparing him if you possibly can. All you need to say is “I don’t think we’re right for each other,” which is the honest truth. It sounds like it wasn’t that he was an awful lover, but just that the two of you didn’t click in the ways you needed to. That’s the definition of a no harm, no foul situation. It sucks that things didn’t work out but that’s the game sometimes.
Then give yourself a break, too. You went into this in good faith, you tried your best to make things work out and the x-factor you needed with him wasn’t there. This won’t be the last guy you date; other guys are out there, who will understand that you take time to feel ready to bang (and that you’ll be firecrackin on the 4th of July when you are). This was bad luck, that’s all.
You’ve picked yourself up before, so you know you can do it again. You found this guy, so you know others like him are out there. Give yourself a moment to take a breath and get back out there when you’re ready.
Good luck.
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Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com