Tough Love: Indignant

[fairestcat]

My ex writes about sex and relationships and recently wrote that, after we broke up, all my pictures were just me “in the woods” and likened me to Bon Iver. I hike all the time, so it wasn’t Justin Vernon–esque escapism. Is it OK to feel indignant?

Of course you can feel indignant. Just like she can feel indignant that you subtweeted her to an advice column. Consider yourselves even. And in the future, avoid the temptation to read her writing; nothing good can come of it.

Tough Love: I Taught My Girlfriend to BASE Jump and It Scares Me

[fairestcat]

And now a more serious one:

My girlfriend and I met while she was going through a breakup. She wanted to learn BASE jumping, so I taught her before we started dating. Once things got romantic and she wanted to learn trad climbing and BASE jumping in new places, I wanted to do this stuff with her less and less because I would feel so terrible if she got hurt from something I taught her. What do I do?

Do you think your girlfriend is being reckless, or is more likely to get hurt than you are? If so, it’s worth sitting down and discussing your worries. There is a small chance, since she was going through a breakup at the time she started BASE jumping, that she’s drawn to adrenaline as a way to dull difficult emotions. If this is the case, it’s not your role to police her search for adrenaline; it’s to help her process those emotions. It’s also possible that your girlfriend wanted to learn about BASE jumping, in part, because of that one super-cute instructor—even if she went on to love the adventure for its own sake. She should know that even though you met her through BASE jumping, you adore her whether or not she decides that extreme sports are her thing.

My hunch, though, is that your girlfriend loves BASE jumping for the same reasons you do: the freedom, the rush, the way the world shrinks away and grows toward her. Your main job, as a supportive partner, is to celebrate her newfound passion just as you would one of your own.

It’s natural to feel nervous when your beautiful new girlfriend steps to the lip of a cliff, falls off the edge, and plummets like a wingless bird toward the waiting rocks below. But the humility might be good for you. After all, that fear you feel? That’s what all your loved ones feel, too, every time you jump into the sky. I’m not saying you shouldn’t jump off cliffs, of course; that’s your joy, your decision. I’m just saying that if you told your mom you’d talk to her at 5 p.m. afterward, you should call her at 4:52.

For now, be honest about how you feel. You are not responsible for your girlfriend’s decisions, but you also don’t have to continue teaching a loved one a dangerous sport if you’re uncomfortable doing so. Help her find a new instructor whom you trust—maybe even the person who taught you—and make sure she knows that you’re proud of her and believe in her. Then step back and watch her fly.

¡Hola Papi!: Am I Wrong to Be Annoyed With the Term 'Partner'?

[fairestcat]

¡Hola Papi!

So, I recently got two new roommates, a cis guy and a cis girl. They started dating, and when they introduce themselves to other people, they use the words "my partner." They are bi, but I feel that their relationship isn't a queer one. It really ticks me off. Am I being gatekeepy, or are my rolling side-eyes justified?

Signed,
Dowdy, Partner

Hi, Dowdy!

First of all, your roommates started dating while they were already living together? Wow. I did not know you could do that. Imagine someone deciding to date you after they’ve seen the way you live. At your lowest point. At you, crying on the floor with an empty Artichoke Pizza box in your hands at 3 a.m. because you forgot you already ate it on the train. I am afraid of your roommates, reader. They are not like us. They are stronger.

Anyway, per your dilemma, I have great news! There’s actually a pretty straightforward process for any couple that wants to call each other “partner,” and it is laid out thusly:

First, acquire a horse. In my experience, this is undoubtedly the hardest part. They are not as docile as propaganda disseminated by Big Horse™ would have you believe. Once you’ve acquired a horse, you must find someone else with a horse. This is the second-hardest part; hardly anyone owns a horse these days. But it’s all downhill from there, really: Then you just have to rob one measly bank. Fill your burlap sack to the brim with gold (draw a giant dollar sign on it for flair) and ride hard toward the purple-pink horizon, which holds adventures unknown just beyond the gentle curve of the earth.

In an arid desert, sitting next to a crackling fire and staring off into space, reveal your tragic backstory. Only one of you has to do this, and honestly if you want to be renewed for another season it’s better if one of you withholds theirs. After you tell your tale, allow a sacred pause to engulf the both of you. With your eyes on the moon, say, “Partners?” If the moon replies with “Partners” or “I reckon so,” then congratulations! You are partners.

I wasted so much time on that fake scenario. I’m so sorry. The real answer is so brief that I needed filler, and I have a creative writing degree that I haven’t put mileage on in a while. Ahem. Your roommates have every right to call each other partner, or whatever they want to call each other, really. It’s their relationship. Sure, you can be annoyed with it. I once knew a couple who called each other “honeydew” and “little lady.” But I’m not a victim. I grew from it and I learned.

On the other hand, I do think all queer people are justified in keeping our side-eye in a perpetual state of vigilance for cishet tomfoolery, and it’s always worth interrogating relative privilege within the queer community. There is privilege inherent in any relationship that reads as straight. But your roommates are bisexual, and being in a relationship that may read as straight from an outside perspective doesn’t erase their queerness. It would indeed be gatekeepy to tell them what they can or can’t call each other.

As for the kerfuffle over the term “partner” in general, I actually like that it deemphasizes gender and connotes a certain equity among all parties involved. Yeah, there are cishet people who use it self-righteously, as if they are single-handedly dismantling the patriarchy by dropping the word at parties, but those people are annoying for a litany of other, much more pressing reasons. If I were you, I would mind my own business and just hope they don’t break up while I’m living with them.

And anyway, Dowdy… aren’t we all partners in the cosmic law firm of life?

No.

No, we are not. That is not what the universe is.

— Papi