What You Really Really Want (23 page)

If you've got challenging issues, it may make getting what you really really want harder, because you've got extra feelings to manage for yourself and extra needs and boundaries to negotiate with your partners. And you may require greater levels of trust with a partner than the “less messed-up” people do, because you may want to have some clue they can handle what you're dealing with before you get down with them.

On the other hand, the skills you're learning in order to manage whatever your particular issues are can also be an asset in sexual connections. In
A Farewell to Arms,
Ernest Hemingway wrote, “The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places.” Odds are, that describes you in more ways that you know. The places where we're broken are often places we've developed special muscles. Sometimes those muscles are literal—if your legs are weak, you may have developed strong arms to help you get around, and those strong arms can be a real asset when it comes to holding a lover close. (And they may be a turn-on to a girl like me, who has a preference for strong shoulders.) Sometimes your arms
are stronger metaphorically—you've had to develop really great communication skills in order to stick up for yourself around whatever makes you feel freaky, and those communication skills can be put to great use in the sack. Or you've developed a strong empathy for other freaky people, and that helps potential partners feel safe with you. Maybe dealing with obstacles has forced you to become more creative, and that makes you a more creative lover.

Becca knows both sides of this:

In the end, it's important to make room for both truths: There are things about you that make life harder that you can't change. And dealing with those things, navigating through a world that discriminates against you because of them, has given you skills and powers that people who have it “easier” may never attain.

Sometimes the issue isn't whether someone wants you or not. It's whether or not they want you for the right reasons. Which begs the question: What are reasons you want to be desired sexually, and what are reasons that make you feel bad?

It's not a trick question. For some people, it goes back to the conversation about love that we started in the last chapter. If you want to have sex only in the context of a love relationship, then “you turn me on” is a wrong reason to be wanted. “I love you and I think you're beautiful inside and out” is probably a right reason. On the other hand, if you're not looking for anything serious, “I want to cherish every inch of you, and only you, till death do us part” can be a totally wrong reason to be desired, but “you are so incredibly hot” might be a great one. It all depends on what you really really want.

But there's a deeper, more twisted kind of Wrong Reason, which has everything to do with feeling like a freak. Whether
it's our big butts, our dark skin, our queer or transgender identity /body, our age, or any number of things, many of us have had experiences with people who made us feel like even less than the sum of our parts. Some people call this “fetishizing,” some others call it “othering” or “objectifying,” but whatever you call it, it can feel really bad. Like you're no longer a person, you're just whatever the “freaky” or “different” part of you symbolizes to the person who wants you.

Don't get me wrong—we all have tastes. Some of us like curvier, plusher bodies, and some like firmer ones. Some are more drawn to creamy skin, and some to caramel. As I mentioned earlier, I'm a sucker for strong shoulders. There's nothing wrong with having preferences. But I've had plenty of lovers with average-to-weak shoulders, because shoulders aren't the only thing I care about. Where it veers into Wrong Reason territory is when a partner is so focused on a particular preference that we feel reduced to that one quality. And it's especially charged when that quality is something that has been used to take power away from us, something that has made us feel weird or different or “other” throughout our lives, like our race or our sexual orientation.

What's especially insidious about this fetishizing kind of Wrong Reason is that it can become a generalized fear that no one will ever want you as a whole person. And when that happens, you can easily wind up closing yourself off to people who may want you for completely awesome reasons, because you're afraid of encountering the Wrong Reasons.

For Zeinab, that means:

There are no easy solutions here, but there are a few ways to help you sort out whether someone wants you for you, or for something you symbolize to them. Depending on how well you know them, you could just ask. But there's always the chance that they may not be aware they're treating you like a symbol. It may be completely unintentional, and you may or may not be able to help them see it. (And you may or may not be willing to put in the effort required to try.) What matters is how it feels to you: Do you feel like you get to be a whole, complex person with them? Or do you feel boxed in, stereotyped, or extra-freaky? If it's any of the latter qualities, and you either can't or don't want to work through it with the person, it may be time to move on. Because choosing to stay with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself—even if they don't mean to—is sending yourself the message that you deserve to feel bad about yourself.

On the flip side, try to notice those lovers or potential lovers who are attracted to more than one thing about you. Sure, maybe your queerness is a turn-on for them, but so are your laugh and your hazel eyes. As you spend more time together and reveal different sides of yourself, are they more attracted,
or are they trying to shove you back into the box they think you belong in? Don't get hung up on whether or not they're hot for some part of you that makes you feel freaky—pay attention to whether or not that's the
only
part they're into, or the biggest part.

As fat activist Brian Stuart puts it (he's talking about love, not sexual attraction, here, but the point remains the same):

In the end, the number one best way to stop worrying that no one will want you, or no one will want you for the right reasons, is to stop thinking of yourself as an abandoned pet in a rescue shelter, waiting for someone to pick you, and start thinking of yourself as a whole person who gets to do picking of her own. In other words: Instead of wondering if one trait or another of yours will prevent anyone from wanting to be with you, start focusing on what traits
you
want in a lover.

For some of us, this is obvious. For others, it's a daunting task, because we've never let ourselves entertain such an idea before. For still others, it feels dangerous, because being sexually proactive—being the choos
er
as opposed to the chosen—is something we've learned we're never supposed to do. But now you know how to manage your feelings if they come up, so go ahead and do that, and let's proceed.

There are a lot of ways to approach this question, some of which have to do with the work you did in the last chapter. If you're searching primarily for a long-term, monogamous life partner, you'll probably have different criteria than someone who's looking for a reliable friend with benefits. But in general, there are four categories to think about when considering what makes a good lover for you: