The Ethical Slut

I did not expect this book to affect me in the ways it has. If nothing else, it has given me plenty of things to discuss with my therapist.

Until recently, I've never felt that I could be comfortable in non-monogamy. I never disagreed with the core premise that it's unreasonable and unhealthy to expect a singular person to meet all of one's physical and emotional needs. The biggest hangup for me when imagining myself in a polyamorous relationship is having to deal with times when a partner may be unavailable because they went out with someone else that day. “What's the point,” the thought goes, “of securing a relationship only to be denied contact so the partner can go out with someone else?” I'm struggling to put the precise rationale into words, but I suppose it's fair to call that core emotion jealousy. The strange thing is, I was never bothered when my actual partner spent time, even alone, with her friends. The thought of her sleeping with any of them was simply a non-issue to me. That's not because I found that possibility desirable — I certainly didn't — but because that was a mutually agreed-upon boundary. It's the violation of that boundary, more than its expression as intercourse, that would be objectionable.

Anyway, as this book notes, monogamy is not a cure for jealousy. There are myriad reasons why a monogamous partner might be unavailable at any given time. I find Easton's theory about jealousy particularly compelling: what we call “jealousy” tends to be a mask for some deeply-rooted inner conflict, and digging into that feeling can be the catalyst for personal growth. So let's explore that aforementioned hangup through this lens. Lately, my primary goal in pursing a relationship has been physical intimacy, by which I mean cuddles far more often than sex. Obviously it is unnecessary to be dating someone exclusively to share cuddles (or sex, for that matter) with them.

…

The section “Saying Yes, Saying No” raised some similarly potent feelings for me.

Most people have trouble with “no”—many men are taught that they are always supposed to be eager for sex, so if someone comes on to them when they are not ready or not interested, it can feel unmanly and wrong to say no.

Asked before reading this book, I would have said I knew better. Of course it's a myth that men always want sex; after all, I don't want to fuck a total stranger. But in practice, I've found myself toying with the prospect simply because someone expressed interest in me. “Sure, they just want something casual and I'm looking for a relationship, but it won't hurt to chat for a bit, maybe meet up, right? They're attractive, and it's not like I'm a prude or anything. Maybe I'll be down once we've talked for a bit. Besides, they probably won't even message me. What's the harm in agreeing?” Then the follow-up punch:

If You think someone is ridiculous for finding you attractive, we worry about your self-esteem.

This experiment in online dating (which has gone on for 4 months at the time of writing) has been a drain on my self-esteem, though not in the way I thought it would. I'm comfortable presenting myself as the weird, nerdy lump that I am. It fucking sucks to be met with nearly total silence. What do I have to do to get noticed? Am I just in a geographically bad spot? Then after weeks of this, suddenly an attractive stranger expresses tentative interest in hooking up with me. I'm not sure I'm ready for that, but can I afford to say no?