Q: How did you know when you wanted to tie the knot and “settle down”? Maybe I just have commitment issues, but it’s been almost two years since I started dating my girlfriend, and at times I feel no closer to being comfortable with the thought of marriage than I have in the last few years. Not saying things aren’t good, just that I want to be sure I don’t fuck it up.

A: Marriage isn’t for everyone so don’t assume that just because a certain amount of time has passed you need to feel the marriage bug. Or if you do think you want to get married, but it scares you a lot then don’t jump into it just because you think you should. Jumping into marriage is never a good idea. But if it concerns you, sit down and talk to your girlfriend and discuss it. Maybe she doesn’t even want to get married.

For me, it was actually something I decided before I even met my wife. This may sound odd, but it felt totally normal for me. A lot of it had to do with what happened before we met and how my attitude about relationships changed. Story time!

Most of my romantic life has been a series of awful relationships one after another. They were all intensely felt and extremely short. Part of the problem was that I suffered from major paranoia. My brain always went off on its own tangents about what my significant other was doing in the time we were away which pretty much led me to be that crazy girlfriend who is always calling and crying. But it didn’t help that most of the people I dated seriously were jerks or completely immature. At 23 I was starting to think that I’d never have a real longterm relationship.

Then I started dating a coworker. In the beginning we tried to take it slow because we worked together and didn’t want to start any sort of office drama. But it really didn’t work. We had a whirlwind romance and fell in love really quickly. We spent all of our time together and life was fantastic. He was the first person I had ever been with that I wanted something more with. I seriously started having fantasies about moving in together.

But then he became busy … all the time. These were real issues he was dealing with; he wasn’t just blowing me off. He was a genuinely nice guy. He found out he had a daughter from a one night stand 5 years ago, he had decided to go back to school, and he was trying to fix the life that he had fucked up in his 20s. It was all too much and he became less and less available. The paranoia started and would NOT stop no matter how much he tried to console me.

Eventually I had to break it off with him. We were still madly in love, but I couldn’t live so unhappily. The end of that relationship was the biggest heartbreak I ever went through. I was used to breaking up with people for being assholes, not because it just wasn’t working. I tried sex with other people and I hated it. I’d drink and then call him. This led me to basically becoming a hermit for the next 8 months where all I did was eat, watch tv, work, and go to school. I stopped socializing, I stopped drinking, and I stopped dating. Eight months is the longest period of time that I have EVER gone without sex or dating. I was seriously distraught.

But the truth of the matter is, I never actually saw a real future with this guy. I loved him and I wanted to move in with him, but the next step in my head was breaking up. I thought our relationship would probably last maybe a year or two. I loved him so much and yet I knew that we wouldn’t work in the longterm.

Moving in with someone and then breaking up with them after a year or two was actually the next step for a relationship in my head. I thought that was how it was supposed to be. Just another relationship casualty on the path of life.

So during that 8 months of deep depression I reassessed what I wanted. I also started going to a therapist to help me get over the devastation I was feeling. I decided that I couldn’t go through that again. I did not want to relive this breakup, so what was the point of moving in with someone and then breaking up? That started to sound like a horrible plan. So I decided that the next relationship I got in would be for keeps. Keep in mind though that I don’t commit to just anyone who happens along. I date awhile first before I decide anything.

The first person I had sex with after that 8 months was a total disaster. The paranoia attacked way earlier than it normally does and I had to break it off. But soon I would meet my wife and that relationship started off pretty much the only way I can imagine a relationship of mine starting and actually being successful. She was more screwed up than me. She’d just gotten out of a 4 year relationship and was completely destructive. We became friends and we had sex, but I was so not interested in a relationship with her.

This went on for 2.5 months before we admitted to each other that we had feelings for each other. After 3 months we had a talk about commitment and what we both needed from the relationship and the other person. It was then a bit of a whirlwind relationship where we quickly fell in love as we both healed as people. And the most important thing of all was that I didn’t suffer from paranoia. She texted me all the time. I never asked her to. She just did it. I always knew where she was, who she was with, and what she was doing. It turned out that that was exactly what I needed to quiet the thoughts. It was never an issue of trust for me, but an issue of not knowing what was going on. I’m a control freak with an overly active imagination.

The weirdest thing about our relationship though was that we planned our wedding before we ever decided to get married. It wasn’t scary or anything. We knew that all we were really doing was comparing our likes and dislikes in a way that most people don’t do. It was a lot of fun! We actually started planning our wedding before we even moved in together.

After we had moved in together and discussed the wedding more like it might actually happen we both started thinking that big scary thought: “spending the rest of my life with this person.” Yikes! We realized that we both weren’t ready just yet. While we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives with each other pretty early on in the relationship, it was still a scary idea to actually commit to forever.

And then one day, I wasn’t scared anymore. It just seemed right. So we went ring shopping and I put her in charge of proposing.

My story is probably very different than a lot of people’s stories. I’m sure that if you have a story, it will be different than mine. Just remember that marriage isn’t for everyone and that there is no need to rush into it if you don’t want it or aren’t ready. Talk it over. It always freaks me out that in a lot of heterosexual relationships the man just pops the question. Deciding to get married should be a discussion, not a surprise.

I recently discovered the term “stone butch” on a forum, after reading on I learned (as far as I understand) it is a butch lesbian who primarily, or entirely, I’m not sure, finds pleasure in giving pleasure to their partner. I have recently been attempting to define myself, in terms of gender and sexuality. I think to an outside person if they were to generalize, I would just qualify as a straight man. I have somewhat of an aversion to being the one receiving the attention sexually, and such an “unusual” thought process is often met with misunderstanding with my sexual partners. I have been having a growing problem with this distinction of just being a “straight man” as it seems to ignore much of who I am as a person.

My primary problem is actually finding the nomenclature that would properly describe me, and its very frustrating because either there isn’t any, or the information isn’t exactly readily available. I could be very wrong here, but it seems at least from mostly an outsider’s view, the LGBT community really seems to have a lot more self analysis going on. Maybe not, maybe I just notice it more. I find myself not identifying with those I would personally label as more stereotypically straight, or more stereotypical men.

I have encountered some difficulty when trying to discuss the subject simply because a lot of the time I just don’t know the proper way to describe myself, because I don’t know how, I don’t know any words that are accurate enough. One of the problems with even trying to figure out how to ask my question , is how exactly to word it.

So my question I suppose is this: do you think there is a problem with the self-identity of those that don’t really fit into the LGBT “categories”? Is there enough analysis and self awareness among us in the supposed “mainstream” or are we close enough to how things “should” be that it’s often just ignored or lumped together? What resources are there available to people like me trying to figure out what exactly to call themselves?

There are a couple of different meanings for stone butch. One is where a butch lesbian does not want to receive physical pleasure often because it feels feminizing. Another is where it just means very butch and is more of a gender identity and performance than it is about sexual orientation, although most stone butches would consider themselves to be lesbians and some will consider themselves transgender, but not transexual. Both forms may or may not enjoy strap-on sex which stimulates the clit indirectly when the dildo bumps and grinds against it. Some women are able to orgasm from this. Some may want their cock sucked and some may just want to give their partner orgasm after orgasm with no reciprocation.

The reason I wanted to point out to you that there are a couple of different definitions of the term stone butch and also different things that they may engage in sexually is because I wanted to show you that even if you have the words that you think describe you well, you’ll often have to go into more detail with your sexual partners. Communicating your needs and desires is never easy, but its always more difficult when you are outside the norm.

Just because you are not in the LGBTQQI (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Questioning, and Intersex – can we just call ourselves alphabet soup already?) Community does not mean that you don’t have every right to explore your own sexual identity and figure out what it means to you. Some people in the mainstream analyze themselves, but not enough. And I’d actually say the same for those in the queer community as well. Sure they may spend some time analyzing their sexual orientation, but not necessarily anything else. So you’re ahead of the game in trying to figure out exactly what it is you like and don’t like and what that means in your sexual relationships. I think that if any one group has it down more than anyone else it would be the kink community. And that includes people of all genders and sexual orientations, including heterosexuals.

Because you refer to your feelings about being pleasured sexually as an aversion I would suggest that you seek therapy (possibly even specifically with a queer-friendly counselor since they may be a little more open minded towards sex and sexuality) just to make sure that it isn’t something buried deep down inside that is surfacing. Even if there isn’t, the right therapist can do a lot to help you figure out your own sexuality. If you don’t have a lot of money or insurance there are often clinics with sliding scale fees in most urban areas.

I don’t really have any labels for you that are going to help you figure out how to identify, but for now it may be useful to talk to your sexual partners before you actually jump in the sack and let them know that you’re more of a giver than a receiver. This can at least start the dialogue so that they won’t be completely surprised when you have no desire to receive sexual pleasure yourself. And make sure that they understand that it isn’t them. Its not that you don’t desire pleasure from them, in fact you appreciate their generosity, but you just don’t really want it from anyone. And then give them so many orgasms that they are too tuckered out to even try anything on you ;)