X

Author: camerynmoore

Browsing all posts of camerynmoore

writing characters other than myself

My first fictional-character play, The Pretty One, hasn’t gotten many reviews because I haven’t shown it in many places, but the ones that it received were pretty fucking glowing AND audience response has been good. Both kinds of audiences mentioned that they found the characters to be authentic and relatable. They also frequently noted how restrained the characters were—one reviewer said, in our face-to-face chat after the show, that “they were almost British-like in their reserve”—and how they weren’t really expecting that from me.

This makes me laugh, right before I stop laughing and go huh, because to be honest, I wasn’t really expecting that kind of writing from me either.

Thanks to the previous successes or at least notoriety for my autobiographical shows, and maybe also Sidewalk Smut, and perhaps how I am in social media and just, you know, walking around on the street with cowboy boots and big tits and a big voice and unblushingly saying the rather rude names of my shows while promoting them to strangers… thanks to all of that, I have developed a reputation, for just being blunt and open and saying everything as it is.

I have to say, my education and work experience in human-interest and arts journalism brought me that far. Give me the facts: where, when, why. I had pursued a particular type of food writing, too, in which I rummaged through my life in food to write a column a week about, say, cookbook collecting or homemade jam or holiday foods. I was used to plumbing my own depths, such as they are, and excavating some pretty raw material for public display and consumption. Dig, write, polish, repeat. It was not a major leap from that to one-woman plays based on my sex life.

But when I turned my hand to writing fictional characters and their stories, instead of transcribing myself to the page and stage, I had to stop and re-think just about everything I knew about creating and performing solo theatre.

The thing is, right, I had never really learned how to find a back story. Journalism was facts, either someone else’s or my own. I just had to pull them out and write them down in a meaningful way. And as for performing the role of Me in my first three three shows, I had instant, instinctual access to all the shadow and motivation and emotion that I ever needed. People praise that as authentic and open and raw, and I guess, yes, in comparison to much of what is out there, but in my insecure performer’s heart, I was always a little, like, well, okay, but how much talent does it take just to tell it as it is?

I know, I know. Articulating our insides does take work, and wordsmithing is a talent, whatever the content, and being present with the audience, even through the tough stuff, is hard. But I wasn’t creating that inside-the-character from scratch.

And then, with The Pretty One, suddenly I was. Six separate times, creating a character from the ground up. I had to sit and sit with those people in my head, waiting for the stories to become clear, writing things down, reading them out loud and both the character and I saying, no, actually, not that, that is not actually true. That would never be true.

These people I made, they are not me with my loud mouth and stubborn nature and fuck-you attitude, all of which was born from my own history. They had their own histories and personalities, and like most people in the world, they maybe aren’t that open to people they don’t know; even to their dearest loved ones they might not tell everything. Most people hesitate when they are telling truths. They stumble and go down wrong paths, in their minds, with their words. And they probably don’t use exposition when a simple eye-roll or grimace or loud laugh can fill in where their words leave off. For sure, these characters of mine are more reserved than I am about sex stuff.

Even after writing nerdfucker, which is just one fictional character for the entire play, I still can’t believe how challenging it is to not just insert myself into everything this person says or does. But that is essentially what I’ve had to learn to do: hold my own self back and leave enough quiet, still space for the character to come in, find their own boundaries, and say what they need to say.

(Yes, I know this is all still me. Shhh. Don’t tell them that. I don’t want them to get scared away. The process is working pretty well so far.)

*****

Theatre is just one of the ways that I delve into the hard stuff: sex, love, relationships, self. If you like what I do and want to help make it possible to keep doing it, considering becoming a patron of mine on Patreon!

FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “how does one get invited to a sex party?”

How does one get invited to/find out about a sex party?

Step 1
Network your ass off, that is, make friends with people who might throw sex parties, or who know about sex parties. Don’t make friends with them only because they might be party-throwing- or knowing-about perverts; that is super exploitative and creepy. But if you are feeling like everyone in your current circle of acquaintance might judge you if you mentioned anything about going to such a party, now might be a good time to broaden your friendship networks a bit.

Best places to meet these people are munches or sloshes: social gatherings for kinksters. Generally munches are held in places that aren’t focused on booze, and sloshes are held in pubs and bars, etc. Just about any online swing/kink site will have some kind of listings for this, but Fetlife.com is the first place I would recommend for finding munches. Like most communities online, it has lots of assholes, creeps, and people pretending to be people that they aren’t. However, when you drill down into the places category, the regional and city groups on Fetlife are pretty reliable ways to find people in your area.

There will be announcements about munches, as well as… wait a minute, there are some sex parties listed here, too! You could just skip the munches and head straight out to the parties, right?

WHOA THERE, BUCKEROO. You could just go to the sex parties and the monthly dungeon play parties, just pay your money at the door or buy that membership or whatever. But you’re going to show up at those things and not know anyone, and you’re still gonna feel left out of the loop. Take it from me: being a wallflower at a play party, when you really want to play, is one of the worst kinds of wallflower to be.

Step 2
Take the time to get to know people in your community first, even if, hell, especially if you don’t want to have sex with them or flog them or anything. Munches or sloshes are good, as are workshops at dungeons or local sex toy stores. If you’re lucky enough to have a sex/sexuality convention or sex-geek convention within easy traveling distance, that’s a bigger step to take, but you will definitely have the opportunity to meet lots of people at once, if you’ve got the personality to handle all of that interacting.

Step 3
BE CHILL, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. Don’t get all wrapped up in finding this party that you want so bad. The right party will emerge when you are putting in the effort to socialize properly and you’re ready for it, whether it’s a commercial dungeon or a hotel room orgy at a con, or a Cards-against-Humanity game that went right off the rails.

In the meantime, do not keep pestering your new-found friends about whether they know of any sex parties. Do not have that be the only question people see you posting about on the private FB group. Do not ask that question continually at munches. This shit is creepy; don’t do it. Asking everyone the same question over and over—“do you know where the party is this weekend?”—makes you like one-track and desperate, and that is not an attractive look on anyone.

Generally, people want to meet and befriend other people who have at least a little bit of a personality. You want to show that you are capable of being entertaining and friendly, because most sex parties have a lot of downtime and you want to show your potential hosts that you can do more than suck dick or make happy porno noises.

Step 4
Go ahead and check out the commercial offerings that are out there. Again, Fetlife regional groups will frequently have posts for the clubs and dungeons in those areas. Whatever else you do, I encourage you to go with someone you trust, whether that's a partner or a friend. And do the research for these clubs before you get there. Different parties, both private and commercial, have different codes of conduct; some allow only non-penetrative BDSM-oriented play, others are fine with whatever. Most have some sort of dress code to follow as well. DO YOUR RESEARCH.

Finally, I want to put out there a radical Step 5:
Talk to your existing friends about your interest! Maybe not everyone, maybe only one friend. This might feel scary, but listen: if you are not in the habit of talking with your friends about your sex life, you have no way of knowing what their sex lives are like, either. They may have a monthly Groupon for orgies! Or their friend may be the dungeon master at the play party down the road. You don't know unless you put yourself out there a little. Again, you gotta be chill and not just dump it on unwilling listeners; that way is truly Creepville. But if you have people in your friend circle already who you feel are already close enough for this conversation, give it a shot. You really never know.

Good luck!

*****

Through my blog posts and theatre work and storytelling shows, I try to make more room for discussions about sex, sexuality, relationships, and art. If you think this is important work, consider becoming a patron of mine on Patreon! Everyone's small per-piece contributions add up!

relearning to play the monogamy game

Two years ago I was still writing, at length and in various places, how polyamory felt like the right path for me. I was busily engaged in setting up some kind of love network—the “sailor in every port” model, I called it—and was having a few fun and interesting encounters as I traveled, and came back to a couple of more “steady” lovers during the winter months, and it felt fine.

Included among my sailors was a special man here in the UK, who I fell entirely in love with. Originally I had intended to simply make space for him in my “inner circle,” but after some time building a relationship with him I realized that there was no one else in that inner circle anymore. Not only that, but about a year ago I realized that I wasn’t even remotely romantically interested in anyone else, in any circle, at any level. I met up with past lovers during that strange emotional fugue period, and just could not find the sparks again. My mind said, wait, but polyamory, but my body and heart had flown to him and I could not coax them back.

But this sudden swing, this flip of the switch, felt just … impossible. I was almost angry with myself, and spent a fair amount of time poking away at my psyche. I was disturbed that somehow, after sacrificing so much and working so hard at building a life around ethical non-monogamy, my curiously meandering path had led me to an intense and important relationship that was the only place I wanted to put my heart and sex and everything.

How fucking retrograde, I thought as I beat myself up some more.

I still tried to fight it for a little while. I corresponded with a few people on OKC, met up with a couple of 'em, even. But making myself go on dates that I didn’t want, purely out of political convictions, didn’t feel fair to me or to the other person. And when I tried holding hands with soon-to-be-former lovers, it felt… friendly, but not sexual in the slightest.

Fortunately, at some point in my angst-ridden veer into romantic mono-vision, I started connecting the dots between this most recent sea change and my similarly unsettling shift at the age of 28, when my sexual focus widened dramatically to include cisgender dudes again. After 8 years with a woman, I had been crushed; I felt betrayed by my desires, and felt as though I was betraying everyone else. Follow your bliss, is what I said to myself. I said it like a prayer, held onto it like a lifeline. There was no going back on what I knew, no denying what my heart and body said.

Follow your bliss. It helped me come to terms with wanting dudes with dicks again, and the same affirmation kicked in for this new development as well. I was able to relax into this new facet of myself, but only after exoticizing the fuck out of it. Seems I still can’t stand the default, really, so he and I had to make my monogamy kinky, a cross between chastity games, tease & denial, and playing house.

The fact that I chose this way of being with my partner, in spite of the long separations that still remain, helps me to feel more comfortable in this new desire. Making radical monogamy part of our play, rather than absorbing it whole-cloth into my identity, means that when things shift again—as they surely will—I hopefully will have more stable ground to stand on. The change will feel less like a tsunami, and more like a swing. Yes, it can hurt if I fall off, but it’s not the end of my self.

Besides which, this new “monogamy” game super-charges the time in between, and fits extraordinarily well in our 24/7 dynamic. When my partner and I do get together, and I present him my carefully banked desire like a gift, the way that he accepts it and gives his own to me feels like divine confirmation that my choice this time, for now, is good.

*****

There is nothing new under the sun; I'm just trying to get at a different angle. If you appreciate the work that I'm doing, in writing, performing, and just "putting it out there" in the world, please consider becoming a patron of mine on Patreon.

FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “Do threesomes live up to the fantasy?”

Do threesomes live up to the fantasy?

Short answer: they can, but often don’t.

Long answer: Ooh boy.

Without any context or background knowledge—the anonymity of the Fuckbucket being mostly, but not entirely, a blessing—I do not know exactly what threesome fantasy we’re talking about here. Threesome fantasies vary, depending on the orientation and fucking style of the person doing the fantasizing. There's no one threesome fantasy, and some of them are probably more achievable than others.

Like, I personally have fantasized for at least a decade about being spit-roasted (two dicks, at least one belonging to a cis guy), with other combinations of genitals being at most half as interesting to me. In my experience and current network, though, it's not that easy to find cisgender dudes who both like pussy and are actually okay (as in, keeping-hard levels of okay) with more than one dick in the room. Conversely, I’m not sure if as many straight men fantasize about it as our collective sex consciousness would indicate, you know, two hot bi cis ladies converging hungrily on that magnificent cock , but… yeah, I’ve heard enough guys talk about it to know that the number is statistically significant. AND AT THE SAME TIME, we bi women are all over the place, but we're not automatically down with that particular configuration. No, not even for you.

Setting logistics aside—which you actually can't—I suspect threesomes succeed or go south for the same reasons that two-person couplings do: communication, or lack thereof. However difficult or scary it is for two people to "use their words," trying to get three or more people on the same page is exponentially more so.

The problem is that people really deconstruct the fantasy all the way to the base. It’s not just getting two babes of your preferred gender mackin’ on your hot body and on each other. We develop a lot of our fantasies from pop culture, and Hollywood would have us believe that sex happens organically, maybe with some extra drinking**, but definitely with a minimum of talking. According to that manufactured fantasy, negotiating sexual encounters is awkward and makes for boring scripts. Sexy times are supposed to just EMERGE, ruffling the white gauzy curtains and turning on some lovely rose-coloured lighting on their way in.

And also, sexy times are supposed to just drift away afterward. I suspect that a lot of people, in any constellation of coitus, don’t deal with post-coital feelings very well. With established couples inviting a third in, there’s the strong potential of jealousy, plus that third person feeling maybe a little left out. With solo or otherwise non-hierarchical folks setting up the scene, perhaps that reduces the possibility of feeling threatened in one’s existing relationship, but…

I am not the person to answer this question. I’ve tried threesomes exactly four times. Only once did the mechanics actually work out, but even in that case I felt a little manipulated, like I was doing it to please my partner at the time more than for my own pleasure. The rest of the cases were either insufficiently communicated, or poorly planned. I do not have what I would consider a truly successful threesome under my belt.

I suspect that threesomes can live up to the fantasy, but you have to be hella good communicators, all three of you, before, during, and after.

** (In actual fact, I would suggest that booze complicates threesomes. It might feel easier, while you’re flirting and chatting and pushing annoyed party-goers off the couch, but you might be muddying the waters of real consent and not be making the best decisions at that moment.)

*****

HELLO! Do you like the From the Fuckbucket series? Do you think that more people followed my work, either online or in the theatre? Become a patron of mine over on Patreon and help make that happen!

 

FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “How can I encourage my partner to look at me during sex?”

I have a new partner who is pretty shy during sex. She likes it to be dark and usually has her eyes closed. How can I encourage her to look at me/make eye contact?

First of all, thank you for using the word "encourage"; that is a solid and constructive attitude to take with one’s sexual partner(s) and new behaviors or activities. You can’t spend too long “persuading” or “convincing” someone before you discover yourself embroiled in an argument about butt sex (this is usually the area that people try persuading).

OR what I think is worse, the person who is the target of all the persuading finally just gives in because they don’t want to keep having the same tedious discussion. Now you’ve got someone whose consent is less than enthusiastic, if not actually coerced, the idea of which should leave you with a serious limp/dry case of the heeby-jeebies.

Authentic encouragement is a good tactic, in other words. But what does that look like, in this case?

Let’s get a sense of perspective first. From your question, I am to infer that you like sex to be well-lit, and you like to have your eyes open. That is the way you like it. Let’s just put these out there as two different ways to have sex, neither of which being inherently more enlightened or liberated than the other one. They’re just different ways of doing it.

Also, your sexy times are still new. You and your partner are new to each other, maybe still feeling a little hesitant or unsure. Maybe this is how she is at the beginning of a new thing, and then as she gets more comfortable with you she will be okay with more visible sex.

BUT ALSO: how much eye contact does anyone actually have during sex? I mean… real assessment time. Even if you take out all the times when you can’t make eye contact because hello, roadkill! (!r, that’s a flattened doggy position) and you take out the positions where your partner is too far away for you to make meaningful eye contact without your glasses on… even if we just focus on cis-het missionary with your faces no more than 18 inches apart, how much eye contact do people have? I personally really enjoy watching my lover, but sometimes I need to close my eyes because I’m concentrating on a sensation or there’s a fireworks display happening on the backs of my eyelids, or I’m having such a good time that if I actually saw his beautiful face in the middle of all of it I might implode.

So. The question here is … how much and what kind of eye contact are you looking for? Is it even eye contact that you're talking about, or something else? Like, is the dark bothering you because you don’t think she’s looking at you, or because you want to be able to see her? Does she make eye contact with you when you’re talking? Some people just don’t do eye contact that well.

I think there’s some fun experimentation to be had here with blindfolds and daylight and intimate conversations and carefully paced afternoon make-out sessions. However, you need to answer those questions first. And not just you, but the two of you. Have a little conversation, where you tell her what you like and want, and invite her to tell you. Keep a curious, open-minded attitude—stay encouraging, and open to whatever result comes out of it—and I hope y’all will find a way to let some light in.

*****

Art, culture, and space for real talk about real sex, real relationships, real shit: that's what I do. If you think that's worth supporting, then get on over to Patreon and become a patron!

 

 

Unexpected conversations about surprise kinks: a brief survival guide

A common question that I get about my time doing phone sex is, “Did you ever get stumped on a call?” That is, did I ever get a call for something that I knew nothing about or otherwise didn’t know how to handle?

The answer, of course, is “yes, but I still had to take the call.” (See this past blog post about cuckolding for one of my first such glitches.)

That’s the main thing about doing phone work for a company: you can’t really flail or go silent or be overtly shocked or otherwise fail on a call, because the dispatcher will be listening in, especially when you’re a newbie. If you end up getting a complaint or the caller hangs up on you—out of frustration, not because they came, and yes, you can tell—you are going to get another call immediately, one that doesn’t even start with a “hello.” The dispatcher will go straight to “what the hell was that.” Just one of Those Calls is enough to have you scrambling to keep up and stay cool the next time you get a request that you don’t understand.

In one sense, that scrambling desperation underscores how different phone sex for pay is different from dirty talk and other sexy times in a partnered, unpaid relationship. Callers can and do drop some seriously random shit on their PSOs, and we just have to deal with it, in a way that non sex workers don’t. Couples can and should be having conversations online or in person about things they like and are curious about.

But since the human imagination is vast and colorful and surprising, and even broad daylight and earnest intent are not always enough to insulate you from psychological flail, it helps to be prepared. With that in mind, I’d like to offer you a few tips on what to do if your partner brings up A Thing that you know nothing about.

  • First of all, DO NOT PANIC. Your partner is not going to hang up on you. They are probably more scared of your reaction than you are of feeling like a fool.
  • Stall for time if necessary with simple non-committal exclamations, like “huh” or “wow,” uttered casually but with some interest.
  • Ask all the clarifying questions you want! “What do you like about that?” or “How does that make you feel?” or “Is [some character in their fantasy] wearing something special?” Again, keep your inflection in check. You are not interrogating them, you are doing important information gathering.
  • Thank them for trusting you with this information, and if you feel like you need to do more research before you talk again or act on this, say that, something along the lines of “I’d like to find out more about this, so that I really understand it. The way you talk about it makes me intrigued.”
  • Do the research. Fetlife.com is a fine repository of both erotica and discussions around all kinds of kinks. You can also google the kink + “erotica” or “fan fic”.
  • Notice recurring phrases or motifs as you do your research. Those represent more common “hot buttons” in the kink, and are probably good information to bring into further discussions.

Most of all, take your time. You have lots of it. You’re not on the clock, not really. You don’t have to get them off in an hour. You can have the conversation(s) and do the reading, and you will come back together all the better for the wait.

*****

Are you learning some good stuff from my blog posts? Excellent! I suggest becoming a patron of mine at Patreon as a great way to show your appreciation.

 

FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “Watching/being watched?”

Watching/being watched?

Such a seemingly simple, seemingly binary question to pull out of the Fuckbucket a couple of weeks ago. In the heat of the moment, with fifty people laughing, I went straight for the answer that made the most immediate sense. Watched, of course. I want to be doing, I said. I want to be throwing the goddamn party, or at least be an integral part of it.

But it’s not that simple, this question and sex, the sex that I like to have, at least. Yes, I want to be watched, but whoever is doing the sex with me, their watching me is the most important. And yes, I want to be watched, but you best believe I have my eyes open at least part of the time, and that a good part of my pleasure is gained from watching my lover watching me, an echoing eyeful of erotic bliss, an “I-know-you-know-I-know-you-know exactly how much I love this” moment.

Watching, you see, is not a passive thing. Those of us in live performance know this, that the quality of observation can be quite different between two people sitting right there in the same row. One person is seeing you only. You may be shimmying or orating or slamming down a prop right there and they are seeing that happen, but it’s a surface sense, a passive view. They won’t remember 30 minutes after they leave the room what you were doing. And then the other person. They’re seeing you, too, but they’re watching as well, actively engaged. They may be leaning forward, even, craning to hear every word, and you can see in their reactions, their facial expressions, that they are right there with you.

Before I understood the different kinds of viewing energy in theatre, I knew about them in sex. Or maybe it was sex performance. Here, let me explain:

When I used to go around to the Power Exchange in San Francisco—when I lived two and a half blocks away and it was an easy walk over, even in high heels—I would occasionally climb up into a sex sling in the basement areas and masturbate, separated by a chain-link fence from a stream of mostly naked humanity. I was new to kink and fetish, and newly discovering cock, and this just seemed like a good, safe way of getting to explore a bit of both.

Even in the dim basement lighting, I could mostly see the men who stopped to jerk off in front of my “station,” and mostly they were just staring right into my cunt, seeing that display, watching my fingers move. I liked this okay, but I was always looking for someone who could manage to set up a visual connection, eye-to-eye, without words AND while tracking all the activity happening in that sex sling at once.

These people could watch my face, gaze into my eyes, and then tear away from the eye contact to look back at what my fingers. And I in turn could see their cocks get harder as they jerked it, seemingly transfixed, for the moment, by my pussy pounding activity. But they always managed to tear themselves away, look back into my eyes, see me get excited and then that in turn, back and forth, watching and watched… only a handful of people of the hundreds who passed me during the eight months i hung out at the Power Exchange ever stepped into that connection, but it was beautiful when it happened, so I didn’t mind the rarity.

Watching/being watched?

Actually, now that I think about it, I want both.

*****

Keep the Cameryn Moore machine chugging along by becoming a patron of mine over on Patreon! Your per-piece pledge becomes part of the pool in which my little shows and big plans survive and thrive.

Fringe essays and origin stories

Fringe season has started, and with Fringe come the requests from publications who want to look like they’re being oh-so-active in covering Fringe productions, but all they’re basically doing is sending us lists of awkward/precious questions to answer and email back to them.

It’s Fringe essay season, in other words. I’m never in the mood for it, because who has time to introspect about process at the point when we're done creating and have actual performing to get through? But the truth is, these “interviews” offer us artists the best chance of getting our own actual words into the piece, and I have to really think about what it is that I do. It’s remarkably clarifying!

For example, this fellow in Edinburgh runs something he calls the Dramaturgy Database. One question there is: How did you become interested in making performance? It's good for me, right now, when I'm struggling to establish myself in a new location... It's good for me to remember my roots.

I first started creating works for plus-sized dancers 16 years ago, because I had started dancing myself and was tired of feeling completely left out of the creative and performance part of the dance world. After the very first dance recital I was in, at the age of 28, I was told that I had a very compelling stage presence. I had had so much fun creating a couple of partner moves with one of the other dancers, and that experience of creation, combined with the positive reinforcement of that praise and the adrenaline rush of the performance itself, led me to want more.

Over the course of the next years, my works for the company went into more narrative-driven pieces—dance musicals with a plot—and at the same time I began working as a phone-sex operator. I found myself wanting to write a solo play about that, because my experience as an actual sex worker was not really represented well out there in the performance world. (Again, representation matters.) When I toured Phone Whore and found that people wanted to hear what I had to say, and that I was good at it, a whole new world opened up.

Now, sever years after that first terrifying tour of Phone Whore, it's very clear that I love performing. I've also realized that part of my internal pressure to create my own works is that if I didn’t, there would be nothing for me to perform in, as a fat person. The roles allowed to us are limited and boring. I create the works and the characters that represent me, in some way, and what I want to see out in the world.

“Be the change you want to see in the world.” That’s part of how I became interested in performance: I want to make a world where I have room to create, as a fat middle-aged woman. The other part of it is just something I picked up from two years at Burning Man. They don't have many rules there, but this is on: “No spectators.” In other words, don’t show up to Black Rock City expecting other people to entertain you. Become part of the pageant, as a performer or a caretaker or a technician or as an active, generous audience member. I’ve heard that Burning Man ain’t what it used to be, but I will always be grateful to it for that one concept. In terms of my creative work, I don’t wait any longer for other people to start the party; I bring the party myself.

I want to bring the thing that makes people move inside, that demands thinking and maybe some uncomfortable reflection on one’s own actions. My work ends up being both activism and art. I want that mix, I’m good at both, and in performance is where that finds a home.

*****

Financial support from friends and fans makes my performance/Smut Slam schedule possible. Please consider becoming a patron of mine over on Patreon!

 

FROM THE FUCKBUCKET: “My new girlfriend is so much hotter than me, that I don’t believe she likes me as much as she obviously does”

My new girlfriend is super into me and vice versa. However, she is so much hotter than me, so I’m finding it hard to believe she likes me as much as she obviously does. How do I deal with this?

Oh, my dearest Slammer. I am familiar with your struggle; I would venture that the majority of people in partnered relationships are familiar with it at one point in their lives or another. It is a real thing, to be aware of prevailing standards of “hotness” and to live with that pointed aching feeling that you don’t rank very high in them.

Will it help when I tell you that, even though your feelings are real, the standards aren’t? By that I mean, the standards aren’t objectively real. They have the power they do because people believe that the standards are objective and universal.

There are plenty of evo-psych studies that would seem to testify to the notion that certain physical qualities are attractive across the board, in all cultures throughout time. Such qualities usually involve physical traits that suggest fertility and child-bearing capacity in women (e.g. that old waist-to-hip ratio), strength in men (chin and jaw and broader shoulders), and genetic health in both (symmetry).

But all of that is just so much dusty, retrograde dissertation when you can look around you IN REAL LIFE—not pop culture or the media, that shit’s a fucking wasteland for body diversity for both individuals and couples—anyway, look around you on the street and you will find plenty of examples that people see all different types of people hot enough to shag, date, live with, marry. One person’s “meh” is another person’s “OMG INTRODUCE ME TO THAT DUDE IMMEDIATELY.”

In fact, as an exercise, I encourage you to spend a little time consciously people-watching, say, at a mall or movie theatre, and specifically focused on (obviously) romantic and happy couples. Just observe who is with whom; look at their different body types or faces or styles. If you find yourself judging them, like “what does she possibly see in him?” simply note that thought and set it aside. Think of this as both meditation and affirmation, and also a way of filling up your visual databank with something other than what you see on the big screen or the entertainment rags, for evidence of what types of people are worthy of love.

(Also, go check out what Dr. Nerdlove has to say on this subject right here!)

Oh, and by the way, you’re doing one other thing right already: you understand that this is your challenge to deal with, not your girlfriend’s. You say she is obviously into you, so there’s probably nothing else she could say or do right now to convince you any further. Underneath concerns about the other partner being more conventionally attractive, there almost always are fears that the person will leave you for someone “more in their league.” This is also an understandable fear. People sometimes leave. Relationships do end, but they end for lots of different reasons, and we’ve already established that societal standards are not absolutes, and so “leagues” is a shit concept.

You don’t want to play by those rules, darling. You want to keep playing the way you apparently have been, where she finds you hot and you find her hot. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working fine. Go out and watch other couples of all sorts being happy, and know that, when you’re out there with her, someone else may be watching you and enjoying the fuck out of your happiness.

Every Friday I answer in detail a question received in the Fuckbucket at a previous Smut Slam. If you want to get your sex or relationship or life question answered, GO TO A FUCKIN’ SLAM. Or, send me a question at littleblackbookproductions@gmail.com

*****

If you think From the Fuckbucket is a fantastic feature and you'd like to support it, please head over to my Patreon page and become a patron!

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 57