Advice

On skeezery.

Dear Coquette,

I am really in need of your help. I’m a senior in high school, and last night I went out to dinner with a man 15 years my senior who isn’t a teacher per se but advises some activities at my school. He’s a guy I’ve really enjoyed spending time with and he’s moving away in a month which is why I was excited to have a friendly dinner with him. Which is why I was even more shocked and uncomfortable when he started telling me how hard it was for him that I was 17 and that he connects with me better than he does with women his own age; that in a perfect world, we’d go on a road trip together and do comedy shows and “make love by a campfire.” He told me about how for the first time in his life he’s single and non-virginal and how that’s big for him. He didn’t try anything physical, but I am so beyond out of my mind uncomfortable and have no idea what to do, especially when I see him next. I’m planning on talking to his supervisor, but need some more broad ideas about how to deal with this on a personal level, i.e. the anxiety I feel when I see him, feeling slutty for whatever cleavage I’m showing, etc. Please help. Thank you.

Yikes. Sorry, kiddo. This dude is so gross. It sucks that you have to deal with this kind of skeezery in the last few weeks before you graduate high school.

First things first, don’t you dare for one second feel ashamed. You’ve done nothing wrong. I know it can be rough out there, but you’re not slutty just because you’ve got a pair of tits. This is a harsh lesson in the power of your nascent womanhood, but it doesn’t have to be a negative one. The silver lining here is that you can learn what it feels like to stand up for yourself in the face of inappropriate behavior.

Definitely talk to his supervisor, and if at all possible, refuse to be put in a position where you would have any further contact with this guy. It’s not that he’s necessarily unsafe. More than likely he’s just an emotionally stunted man-child with no clue how to relate to women. Still, what he did was wrong. A 30-something adult in a mentor role simply cannot be acting this way to a high school-aged student, and you don’t need to be dealing with his kind of creepiness. Let the supervisor and the school administration handle him.

On a personal level, don’t be surprised when your initial anxiety shifts into something more akin to anger. If you catch yourself getting a bit snippy with your friends and family, just take a deep breath and recognize what you’re really feeling. Don’t swallow your emotions. Allow yourself to feel them. That’s a big part of processing stuff like this. Eventually, that sick feeling you get in your stomach will mellow, and you’ll be left with little more than pity for this guy.

You’re gonna be fine. In fact, you’ll probably come out of this with a fresh chunk of emotional maturity you can take with you to college, and with any luck, this whole episode will lead to you developing a healthy aversion to dating actors.

Read my column every Wednesday and Sunday in The Daily. Thanks!

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Advice

On proving my point.

You keep saying that people shouldn’t refer to themselves as artists. One time you said that they should call themselves either painters, singers, actors or whatever. But what about people like me who are painters, sculptors, installation artists, photographers and designers all at once? I’d rather just call myself an artist rather than that entire list each and every time someone asks what I do.

Whatever, dude. If you were honest, you’d just call yourself a student.

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Advice

On a bisexual virgin.

I’m bi, she’s bi.  Her and her boyfriend have an open relationship. I have a simultaneous crush on her, and on her boyfriend. Sounds perfect… Thing is, they’re some of my closest friends. And I’m a virgin. I should find someone else to crush on, right?

Maybe. Maybe not. It really depends on whether they both wanna fuck you. Just because they’re some of your closest friends doesn’t mean they wanna get it on. Maybe they do and you’re all emotionally mature enough to handle it. Maybe they don’t and shit gets awkward. Who knows?

Whatever you do, don’t fuck them separately. Either have a his-and-hers sampler platter threesome to kick off your sex life, or look somewhere else entirely to lose your virginity. Trust me on this. Open relationship or not, the fact that you’re all good friends and that your virginity is in the mix will throw your relationships off balance if you don’t do it all together.

This is a tricky maneuver for a first timer. If you fuck it up, you could very well lose two good friends instead of your virginity. Do it. Don’t do it. It’s entirely up to you. Just know the risks and proceed with caution.

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Advice

On creepy shit.

If homosexuality cannot be changed, then what do you recommend for other sexual orientations like pedophiles and such? I am not saying homosexuality is as bad as pedophilia, it is just a sexual orientation as is hetero. But if it cannot be changed then do you recommend people with destructive sexual orientations to just live a life of celibacy, self hate and put on a show for everyone else?

Ugh, you’re so fucking creepy. Pedophilia isn’t a sexual orientation. It’s a disorder of sexual preference. You’re just too stupid to understand the difference.

As for what I recommend, if you’re driven by a sexual impulse to harm children, skip the life of celibacy and self-hate and just kill yourself.

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Advice

On the young and the lonely.

Dear Coquette,

How would you suggest dealing with loneliness?

After graduation, I moved away from my family and where I grew up in Oklahoma to New Haven, Connecticut for work. My job is an amazing opportunity, the likes of which was not available to me back home. Work requires me to put in a lot of hours, which of course, does not leave much free time for socializing.

It has been about a year and a half since I moved, and I don’t have any friends here. I have taken a few classes at the local community art school and I regularly attend Pilates classes in an effort to meet people.

I am afraid that I am not a very open person; it is difficult for me to approach someone. I would like to overcome this. Even though I am friendly with people, I am not sure how to move beyond that to really make a friend.

Art and Pilates classes are fine, but they’re also introspective and singular pursuits. They don’t really offer anything more than cursory social interaction, and it’s pretty easy to end up lonely in a room full of people with a similar interest.

What you need is a team  either a team sport or a team-based volunteer group  an activity that builds interpersonal relationships. Most importantly, you want something where you and the gang all go out for drinks afterward.

Come on, you’re only a year and a half out of college, and you live in a college town. There’s all kinds of fun, social stuff you can do. Instead of art classes, join the Junior League of Greater New Haven and do some volunteering. If you work at Yale, you can participate in grad-pro intramural sports instead of Pilates.

The key here is that the activities you choose should naturally lend themselves to extended social interaction. It’s not about meeting people. It’s about finding settings that are interactive, casual and routine where you can spend the kind of time with people that it takes to get to know them.

Also, you shouldn’t overthink this. Making new friends isn’t something you need to have in the forefront of your mind once you’re a part of a group. Friendships happen spontaneously, and building them isn’t something you can plan. You can only plan to put yourself in situations where it’s likely to happen.

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Advice

On the seven year itch.

Dear Coquette,

I’m 37 and feel like I’m married to the wrong man. He’s a great provider and loves me unconditionally. We don’t have kids yet, but he wants to. Should I risk leaving him to try to find “the one” even though I’m no spring chicken?

You’re 37? Jesus, lady. Put down that Chardonnay-stained copy of “Eat, Pray, Love” and back away slowly because that nonsense has you talking like a doe-eyed teenager.

I’m sorry that you don’t wake up every morning blissed out with a raging ladyboner for your husband, but that doesn’t mean you’re married to the wrong man, and it sure as hell doesn’t imply the existence of the right man.

It’s sad to see a woman your age still suffering from the delusion that there is such a thing as “the one.” Get that Prince Charming crap out of your head. There are just a bunch of men out there, any number of whom could be perfectly compatible life partners for you. Sure, there’s a slim chance you could meet someone you think is better and, over time, build a more intimate connection with him than your current husband. Probably not, though. You don’t strike me as the type with realistic expectations of the men who are available to romantically unfulfilled 37-year-old divorcées. 

The real problem here is that you’ve got a nasty little case of the seven-year itch, and you’re trying to scratch it Oprah’s Book Club style. All that suburban housewife ennui is combining with your massive sense of entitlement, and before you know it you’ll have an ex-husband paying spousal support so you can go on some scented-candle journey of self-discovery. Ugh.

I wish we could just skip to the part where you get a little taste of enlightenment, but you’re still seeking contentment in the silly fiction of a perfect mate, in spite of the fact that you’ve already said your vows to a great provider who loves you unconditionally.

Sorry, lady. Your husband isn’t the problem. You are. As long as you’re of the belief that someone else can be the source of your happiness, you’re doomed to wallow in this minor state of existential crisis.

There’s no chance of you finding what you’re looking for if you keep looking outside yourself. Leave your husband. Don’t leave him. Whatever. In the end, just take some personal responsibility for both your actions and your own happiness.

Good luck finding a clue.

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Advice

On artists and drama queens

Dear Coquette,

We fight all the time. We’re both artists, we both get dark, we battle demons, sometimes they’re each other.

Being artists also means we have a lot of the same friends, so I don’t really have anyone to talk with this about. If I did, it would totally cross some lines and involve people we know, half-professionally.

L.A.’s a beast. I haven’t been here long, we might have to separate, and I don’t know what I’m going to do, where to go, how we stay together for a month while I find enough work to put down a deposit.

How can I empower myself to change and be more calm and collected? How can I settle the score with my demons and send some of them on their way? I am at such a loss. Sometimes I think I’d be better off single, alone, so I can’t hurt anyone, but I’m super-addicted to seduction and loving, too.

How can I let go of the darkness and anger? How can I control my emotions so that we can do business together no matter what happens to our relationship? Indeed, how can I control my emotions so that our relationship can succeed without sacrificing my own ideas?

First of all, quit referring to yourself as an artist. Only douchebags and people who work at Subway do that. It’s fine if you paint, write, sing or dance, but please refer to yourself as a painter, writer, singer or dancer.

Secondly, quit taking yourself so damned seriously. You do not have demons. You are not addicted to seduction. You’re just a crazy bitch like the rest of us, and if you’re addicted to anything here, it’s your own ego.

Finally, if you want to let go of darkness and anger, just let it go. Yeah, it really is that easy. I know, you don’t believe me. That’s because you’re a little drama queen and you thrive on manufactured chaos. Quit doing that. It doesn’t make you more interesting. It doesn’t improve the quality of your art. All it does is create a swirling mess of artificial problems that distract you from getting actual work done.

All that darkness and anger is just your ego in a self-reinforcing vicious cycle of petty nonsense. It doesn’t have to be that way. Imagine your life with a little impulse control. Imagine being able to process negative emotions without your head exploding. Imagine being able to laugh at yourself.

When you recognize that the chaos in your life is a product of your own ego, all that’s left for you to do is be done with it in a flurry of smirking forgiveness. Forgive yourself for being such a pretentious twit. Forgive your boyfriend for being an enormous douchebag. Forgive L.A. and everyone you’ve met here for their multitude of sins. You can even forgive your demons for never having existed in the first place.

Don’t spend another minute wallowing in all that negativity, not one damn minute. If it means the end of your relationship, so be it. If it means you’ll be struggling on your own in the big city, so be it. Once you’ve jettisoned your ego, you’ll be amazed at how easy it is to enjoy your life, even the struggle, and yes, even in L.A.

Good luck not taking any of this seriously.

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Advice

On nothing stopping you.

About a year ago, I met a guy and immediately felt a connection and promptly began dating him. He was absolutely perfect for me and I was smitten. We’re still together today.

Recently, however, I’ve found that I’ve evolved into a completely different person over the past 12 months and he’s still the man I met a year ago. Our conversations bore me to tears and we no longer share many interests. I just don’t need him in my life anymore and I want to end things.

But two things are stopping me.

1. He’s emotionally fragile and I’m not sure I can handle hurting him.

2. The sex is fantastic.

What should I do?

Ugh. You’re not a completely different person than the one you were twelve months ago. You’re just fickle, and it took you a year to get bored.

Here’s what you should do:

1. Either break up with him or shut the fuck up.

2. Get over yourself.

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Advice

On intimacy and letting go

Dear Coquette,

I’m a 25-year-old female in my first serious sexual relationship, after a “Welcome to Sex!” phase of one-night stands during which I hated myself, men and bodies. Since then I’ve learned to like what I’m able to share with him, and I “get it” a whole lot more, but now I’m stagnating and in danger of reviving old patterns. I’m so nostalgic for the enormous amounts of time and attention I used to give to myself that I fail to see how sex makes up for it. If I could learn to really love, love, love sex it would make my life so much easier … How do I prove to myself once and for all that closeness is not time wasted, and that vulnerability is not, necessarily, stress? Because most days I would almost rather masturbate.

Babe, sex or no sex, most days I do masturbate. I hope you don’t think getting off is a one-or-the-other type situation. More importantly, sex isn’t supposed to make up for the attention you give yourself. It’s not a zero-sum game. There doesn’t have to be a conflict between pleasuring yourself and the pleasure you get from your intimate relationship.

Intimacy is never time wasted, but intimacy isn’t about orgasms. Hell, intimacy doesn’t even have to mean sex. As for vulnerability, well, if you equate it with stress, it’s because you aren’t quite capable of detaching vulnerability from anxiety. In other words, you don’t know what its like to really let go.

That’s okay. In fact, it’s not the least bit surprising, considering your body issues and foregrounded self-consciousness. Letting go is what you need to work on, and the best way to do that boils down to what is essentially a series of emotional trust exercises in the bedroom.

It’s time you got a little creative with your closeness. All that time and attention you used to give yourself? Do it with your boyfriend. Invite and incorporate him along for what you used to do by yourself. Bring him with you.

There are no rules to this. No right or wrong way. This isn’t a goal-oriented endeavor. The whole point is just to share yourself physically, honestly and completely. 

No, I’m not kidding, and no, that’s not impossible.

Just let go. Whenever you get all up in your head during sex, I want you to remember those three little words. Say ’em with me now. Just let go.

Will it be scary at first? Sure, but the good kind. Replace the knot in your stomach with butterflies by being present in the moment and trusting that your boyfriend just wants you to be satisfied. I think you’ll be surprised at how open he is to everything.

Of course, you should also talk to him about this. Tell him what you told me. For the sake of his male ego, be sure to let him know that the stagnation you’re feeling isn’t about his performance, but about your own sexual anxiety.

Again, this isn’t about anything that either of you are doing right or wrong in the bedroom. It’s about opening up to your boyfriend and sharing all the stuff in your head. That’s an act of intimacy in and of itself.

If you’re emotionally honest with him, your vulnerability will separate from your anxiety, and you’ll finally make the transition from your “Welcome to Sex!” phase into the infinitely better phase of truly enjoying it.

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Advice

On long-winded ignorance.

Your recent advice given to the young man that expressed a sexual proclivity toward both men and women was just plain terrible. It was actually difficult to read. When you referenced the “bible banging bigots” didn’t it occur to you that your were being bigoted when you wrote it? Seriously?! I guess in the world you occupy where there are no such things as moral absolutes it doesn’t matter does it. It all comes down to what makes each individual feel good. We are all fortunate that it isn’t yet societally acceptable to masterbate at the grocery store check out line. The irony there is that it’s a simple thin veil of will that makes it so. How far down the “if it feels good do it” road will we go?

I don’t believe that there are any differences between homosexuality, bisexuality or beastiality. They are sexual decisions. As it happens rape, incest and child pornography are also sexual decisions. Now I know in our ever so enlightened age of information that no self respecting “post-modernist” would ever concede to these assertions. I am aware of the school of thought that precludes that homosexual behavior is genetic and not a decision. Nonsense. It’s as much a choice as deciding to become a Goth kid instead of a Band kid. People gravitate towards what they want to identify with when there is freedom to do so. Even if it is uncomfortable in many ways. The fact that homosexual people are uncomfortable with who they are is not an argument for genetic predisposition. It’s an argument for humanity. No one is excluded from being uncomfortable at some point in life.

What the young man needed to hear from you was that if he isn’t comforted with the decisions he’s making than maybe they aren’t the right decisions! Your advice amounted to this “your family is evil, now go have sex with a boy”. Fail.

In any case, hopefully one day when you are at the end of yourself, and you have no one to reach out to, one of those bible banging bigots will be there to help you out.

Ugh, I hope not. When it’s my time to check out, I certainly don’t want any help from a guy who doesn’t believe there’s a difference between fucking a horse and fucking his sister.

Seriously, dude. I get that you’re attempting a crude argument for a moralistic version of sexual self-determinism, but you’re not winning any points by telling everyone how much you secretly wish you could jerk off at the Piggly Wiggly.

We’re all very grateful for your willpower, but you’re still coming off as super creepy and painfully ignorant to anyone with an ounce of compassion and half a clue about human nature.

Not that I don’t appreciate getting long letters from folks like you. I genuinely do. It means you’ve spent several hours misdirecting your confusion and rage at me rather than bullying gay teenagers.

Please, keep sending your insane shit my way. That’s time well spent in my book.

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