What You Really Really Want (35 page)

Once you've got your internal motives clear, you still need to check in about your behavior. You're going to want to be extra careful in expressing your attraction to characteristics that may have left your partner vulnerable to discrimination or oppression. So if you're attracted to ample-size lovers, be careful not to overgeneralize (don't suggest that all fat people are hot, for example, because then your mate might think they're merely a fetish to you). Instead, be sure to also compliment the other attributes of theirs that you find attractive.

Which brings us to the third way to ensure you're not fetishizing your partner: Find out how they're feeling! You may have the best of intentions and be incredibly thoughtful about your behavior, but if it's not making your partner feel wanted for the right reasons, that really matters. (It doesn't mean you're necessarily doing something “wrong;” it just means whatever dynamic is going down between you isn't making your partner feel hot.)

So how can you tell whether your partner's feeling fetishized? The best way to find out is to simply
ask.
That may feel a little awkward, but isn't it better than inadvertently hurting your partner? Use the communication strategies from chapter 7, and check in with them. Tell your partner you recognize that they may have some history of feeling fetishized for the characteristic you're attracted to, and you want make sure you're not playing into that. Then shut up and listen. And if there are some hurt feelings, find out what, if anything, you can do differently to avoid causing them in the future.

It may seem pretty obvious to say, “Don't shame your partner!” But actually avoiding doing it is another thing altogether.

As we've explored in earlier chapters, we're all taught to feel shame about any number of things related to our sexuality: our desires, our boundaries, our bodies, our wardrobes, the kinds of people we're attracted to . . . By now you know, at least intellectually, that as long as you're not hurting yourself or anyone else, there's nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to sex. But knowing it and feeling it are two different things.

Think back to that stereo equalizer. If you've learned sexual shame from one source or another, it's hard to ever get rid of it entirely. The best you can do is tone it way down. Unfortunately, that leaves open the possibility that you may inadvertently project your shame onto your partner in one way or another. Maybe you feel constantly vigilant about your body and whether it's attractive, and your partner doesn't seem nearly as invested, and this sparks feelings of resentment in you. Maybe one of you has a high sex drive and the other not so much, and you see your partner's difference as an abnormality. On the other hand, maybe you've successfully minimized some of your hang-ups—about your sexual fantasies or kinks, for example—but your partner still seems really, well, hung up. Or maybe you feel insecure about your boundaries—you get sexual with someone only when you're in a committed, monogamous relationship, maybe, and your partner has no such limit, and it makes you feel inadequate or unsure of yourself.

In any of these situations, you're at risk of encouraging your partner to feel ashamed, even if you don't mean to. Whether it's
jealousy (you've been a “good girl,” and your partner seems to feel free to ignore social norms), fear (your partner is willing to take risks that you never would), or judgment (you think you're more “evolved” than your partner), if you're not aware of the feelings that the differences between you and your partner inspire, they're likely to come out sideways and encourage your partner to feel bad.

So pay attention. If you notice that there's tension between your approaches to sexuality, spend some time getting in tune with yourself about how it makes you feel. And if you find you're judging yourself or your partner, it's time to come clean. Odds are, your partner may have some concerns of their own. If you share them in a way that takes responsibility, it can be something the two of you work on together, instead of a wedge of bad feeling pushing you apart. What you say can be as simple as, “I know I'm having these feelings, and they're not fair or rational, and I'm doing my best not to take them out on you. Can you help me resist them?” And then, as in all challenging conversations, shut up and actively listen.

Chances are, if you've been sexual with people before, then you've hurt people before, either emotionally or physically or both. That's to be expected—it's impossible to be intimate with people without occasionally bumping up against them in painful ways. We all say the wrong thing sometimes, or we're unintentionally selfish, insensitive, or thoughtless, or we break someone's heart because our feelings and needs just don't match up well enough with theirs. We all hurt people we care about sometimes, even if we haven't done anything wrong.

But if you've done something that's
really
harmed someone else—especially something avoidable, like leading someone on, or cheating on them, or pressuring them into doing something sexually they didn't want to do—it's important to take stock of that and try to make amends with them and forgive yourself in the bargain. Accepting that you're human and fallible is important: Having hurt someone, even in a big way, doesn't make you evil or irredeemable. The Golden Rule applies here: If someone hurt you in an avoidable way, wouldn't you want them to at least try to make amends? Living up to that ideal yourself will not only help your partners but also reinforce that you deserve to be treated the way you treat others.

So. What are we really talking about here? Well, it depends on what you've done, how avoidable it was, and how much it's impacted your partner. Did you call them names? Did you cheat on them? Did you lead them on when you knew you weren't that interested in them? Did you give them an STD? Did you violate their sexual boundaries?

It can be uncomfortable to face up to these sorts of things. None of us want to think of ourselves as the kind of person who'd do something like that. These actions don't have to define you. But they will if you let them fester without attending to them.

Because, as it turns out, an apology is hardly ever unwelcome. (It's hardly ever enough, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it.) But don't apologize if you're not genuinely sorry, and don't give a nonapology apology. Don't say, “I'm sorry if your feelings were hurt” or any nonsense like that that attempts to downplay your responsibility. If you know you did wrong and you feel remorse, own it. Say, “Here's what I did wrong, and here's how I know it's affecting or affected you, and here's what I'm going to do to prevent myself from doing it again . . . and please know that I take full responsibility and I'm truly sorry.” Do it even if the harm you caused happened a long time ago. It's never too late to apologize, as long as you don't expect the apology to make it all better.

After you've apologized and listened carefully to their response, ask yourself this question: Does this person need any immediate or long-term help as a result of my actions? If, say, you gave them herpes, do they need medical care that you can pay for? Or, if you can't afford to pay for it, can you help them find a free health clinic? Do they need mental health services? Or housing if, say, they had to move out because you did something that made them no longer feel safe around you? Taking practical responsibility for your actions can go a long way.

For Heather, age forty-one, making amends was a long and complex process.

The help your partner needs may be more abstract. Maybe they need a friend, or a hug, or general emotional support. But if they tell you there's nothing you can do, or to simply leave them alone, then abiding by that is the best way to “make it up” to them. Pushing this hurt person to let you do some active demonstration of penance when they want no part of it is about
your wanting to feel better about yourself—it's not a way to make amends to someone you've hurt.

There may also be consequences to you. You may lose your relationship with the person you've hurt. Your friends may be angry with you. You may face legal trouble. Whatever the direct consequences to you, the best way to demonstrate your remorse is to accept them. Respect your partner's decision to leave. Apologize to your friends and accept their anger. Plead guilty to those legal charges if you're guilty. Own your actions, and their impact will go away faster than if you fight responsibility. And you'll have a greater chance of healing the damage you've done, to boot.

Once you've done everything you can to help ameliorate this damage, the last question to focus on is this: How is it that I came to do this hurtful thing to someone I care about, and how can I avoid doing it again? These are questions that only you can answer.