Saturday, November 25, 2023

Everyone Deserves to be Looked At With Desire

When I was a teenager, I had really bad acne, big square glasses, and braces for longer than seems possible looking back on it. I was very thin, weak, and uncoordinated, which made every gym class an ordeal. I often went to school with hair in a crazy shape, due to taking baths at night and going to bed with wet hair, and I wouldn't even try to tame it. There was overall a feeling like if I tried to do things to improve my appearance, it would only make it worse. With the added embarassment of looking like I was trying.

(by the way, this essay is going to be real specific to where I’m coming from demographics-wise - cis women and others have such different journeys with feeling desirable, that I have some notion of but could never speak to)

So that was going on, and then at a certain age it was like a switch flipped and I was flooded with lust and longing, every day. I would jerk off once or twice a day, and get lost in vivid sexual daydreams, sometimes making a strategically-placed backpack necessary to make a hallway trip.

But I never did anything to try to make sex or romance happen in real life. I was incredibly shy and awkward, and I mostly hung out with either my family, a small circle of nerdy male friends, or myself. If anyone ever had a sexual or romantic thought about me, I never knew it. I didn't feel blue about it, I just set the question aside and went back to my book, ninja movie marathon or programming project.

That went on for a while.

Looking back on me at 20, I think I was objectively kind of beautiful. Lithe, good cheekbones, geekily enthusiastic, non-threatening. If I'd only known how to do my hair, dress, schmooze a bit, and where to meet people, things could have been popping off. I had a lot of the ingredients, but had no idea how to work them. Plus I mostly stayed in, or went to art house theaters, rock concerts, and used bookstores and talked to no one.

Then when I was 22 on a internship, something amazing happened. A beautiful 28 year old woman I met in a science fiction book club, and, in a mad burst of energy, pursued, wanted me back. She said she was attracted to my mind, and to the way I looked. And she proved it, by having sex with me!

This did two things right away:

  1. It nourished me, it gave me a deep watering, down to my roots, that I never knew I needed. Previously, I didn't consciously think I'd stay a virgin forever, but I had no concept how it was going to happen, for me. I was going into fourth year undergrad without a whisper of it. Then all of a sudden I felt like my own life would be a story worth telling. A story that would have passion and adventure. And naked breasts.
  2. For the first time in my life, I had feedback about what someone found attractive in me. I could ask questions like, when did you first decide you wanted to fuck me? What was good and bad for you in that first date? The first email? Pillow talk was an absolute revelation. Feminine desire suddenly became so real to me, not just a legend. I learned that attraction isn't announced in big flashing letters like it is by professional actors in movies. Sometimes it looks more like shyness, caution, acting weird. Without lots of examples, you can't develop the skill of recognizing it. Or in my case, even believing I could be the target of it.

This affair only lasted a couple of months, and of course I became a clingy disaster - no doubt making this person vow to never fuck a virgin again. Sad mix CDs were made. But it changed everything.

I'm writing about this here because I think of it when I see the daily posts, on Fetlife and elsewhere, about (predominantly) straight cis men's hapless and hopeless attempts at hitting on people. The behaviour of these dudes nags at my mind because I almost get it: If NOTHING EVER WORKS, why not try everything? Why not send a dick pic, putting it all on the table so to speak, and get rejected now rather than later? It's a form of despair, and of learned helplessness. These men might never get a chance to see what's sexy and desirable in themselves, how such small adjustments in their style and communication, and understanding of the world, could make what's fuckable about them shine out.

I came back to campus after that internship with the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack playing in my head, and a swagger in my step. It. was. on.

It was not on.

What actually happened then was that I had a dry spell so long, I might have found my virginity again. But for the first time I was willing to make a fool of myself, I was trying. I went to people and books for advice, some of it very bad (e.g. Neil Strauss), but all giving me confidence, however misplaced, to get out there and talk to people.

There were some extremely awkward years in there. Sometimes it seemed like trying, like admitting I wanted something, had been a mistake. There was a lot of simping, a lot of try-hard first messages, a lot of realizing what I thought was going to be a date was clearly not. I hope I wasn’t a creeper, but I was at least visibly thirsty, and all over the place. But I kept working on myself, holding onto that glowing thread of hope, that someone had found me attractive and had been interested in sucking my dick.

I didn’t have my first actual relationship, with regular sex, until my late 20s. Honestly the world of women was spared my early 20s self as a boyfriend. I still have plenty to learn about relationships today, but back then I really had a lot to learn. Like a lot of straight cis nerdy dudes, I thought I was sweet and decent, but actually I was kind of a self-centered ape, not to mention not having any grasp of women’s experience (just for starters) being different from mine. And there was a whole world of boyfriend skills I had no idea of.

But by the end of it I had learned some, and then the next person who was willing to fuck me changed the game again, and the next one again, each time making it easier to believe that I was desirable - and giving me more feedback about what was hot about me. I think a lot of straight guys are starved for compliments, and don't even realize it. I was! It was a wonderful gift that my first few partners were not just willing to bone me, but be openly lustful towards me. I wish I was the type of person who could just organically charged myself up with self confidence, but it really took people telling me they found me sexy. And being specific!

Over time I got to know, whose type am I? (and in real life, rather than media, who's my type?) When is the right time for a first kiss? How to show interest in a non pressury way? All that takes a lot of feedback. Most importantly, things like when is there really a vibe - what's interest rather than polite friendliness? You can't learn that without positive examples, not just a string of failures.

That's the basic story. I learned to talk to people I was into, and found some of them were into me. Not worrying about if I was attractive enough freed me, got me out of my own head so that I could actually see and enjoy the person across from me. My desire became appreciation, not desperation. Which in turn made me more attractive.

Then 10 years ago, almost as a post-script, kink happened.

Unexpectedly my dark, weird, complicated fantasies of mind control and hypnosis, previously a shameful secret, made me really attractive to a really specific crowd. And I learned the skill of hypnotizing - easy to be motivated when that’s my fetish - and it turns out people enjoy that. The amount of interest I got, and sex I've had, broke any meter I might have had for myself. I don't know what to make of this exactly, except that it gave me another piece of the puzzle: learning how to share your desires, in a way that is appealing and respectful, is key. And again it's hard to learn how without some success, not just bloopers. Glad I figured it out somewhat before kink, so I don't feel like people would only be interested in me for the ride I can give - I have some game in the vanilla world.

Anyway there are plenty of people, sinking into self pity and self loathing, that I wish I could gift this to: the experience of being looked at with desire. And for it to happen more than once, because once, you can write off as a fluke (and you get clingy). Lots of weird ideas and bad advice get burned away in an instant. And that in turn makes you sexier, since it really is so much about the vibe, and so little about the looks.

But all I’m saying is that I wish this for people - no one has the right to demand it. I grew up with a guy in my hometown, intellectually brilliant but with weird ideas about how he was owed attention from women. How society should ensure men get sex. He cancelled his eHarmony account after two weeks and demanded his money back, on the basis that no one contacted him first. Following his blog entries over the decades, he’s travelling a very dark and lonely path, one that eventually came to be known as “incel”. (Though he wouldn’t call himself that, because that would be too much like joining a group…) This can be such a spiral, and I wish I could help people who are feeling that hopelessness, because we only get one life to lead. The number one piece of advice I would give is to learn to see women or whoever catches your desire as people with their own stuff going on, and to get truly interested in them, as in this advice about asking questions on dates.

I’m glad I kept trying, kept pushing through the awkwardness, and eventually found myself in a place where I have figured out a bit what’s sexy about me, and have plenty of affection and compliments in my life. If kept feeling undesirable, I might have made the mistake of committing to a long term relationship with someone who showed interest but wasn’t right for me, even someone toxic. Instead, I got to have a lot of experiences, and find love a bit later in life with someone I specifically and emphatically chose, and keep choosing (6 years married!).

I’m sure feeling attractive will still be a problem at times, as I slide into some level of New-Balance-wearing middle age frump. But I know I’ll never have less game than I had back in my 20s, and that I have been looked at with desire. And that feels great.

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