#lgbtq advice

An Honest Mixtape: My Weird Cool Bod
byAlaina Monts

Hello! We are starting a new advice series here at Everyone Is Gay called “An Honest Mixtape”! Every month we will feature a new guest writer who will tackle one of your advice questions with words *and* music! 

“So, I am a nonbinary person and I really hate having boobs. My dysphoria usually isn’t so bad, but for a while it’s really been getting me down and this human person would like to know is there are any little things that help hold dysphoria at bay.”

Alaina Says:

Hey bud, first and foremost, I want you to know that I feel these feelings that you’re feeling. Not being happy with the body that you are stuck with is probably one of the worst feelings that a person can feel in my opinion, because like what can you do? I’ve had days/weeks/months when all I’ve been able to think about is top surgery and how good I’d look if I just didn’t have these boobs—that I never asked for thank you very much. And while dreaming is nice, getting into that cycle of happiness=top surgery often makes me more sad than happy because top surgery is expensive, and inaccessible, and permanent, and just a big decision! So what’s a person to do right now, when they’ve tried on 17 shirts in one morning and every single one of them makes them look wrong?

Here’s my suggestion: feel those feelings. When I’m feeling dysphoric, I let myself feel it. That’s the most important step. Once you give yourself permission to feel things, you’re more likely to realize where those feelings are coming from and figure out a way to deal with them (or, at least my therapist says so). Once you’ve let yourself have a feelings party, choose an outfit that you objectively know that you look good in and wear it (call it your “fake it till you make it” outfit).  Then, text your very best friend a selfie of you in said outfit and ask, “is this a good outfit, yes or yes?” and if your friends are like mine, they will respond with all the emojis plus all of the love and confidence you’ll need to be able to leave the house. Lean on your friends. If you’ve got other nonbinary friends, now’s the time to chat with them about what you’re feeling—knowing that you aren’t alone will make dealing with these weird body feelings you have so much easier.

I also want to ask you (and myself) to work really hard to distinguish if what you’re feeling really is because of you and how you see yourself, or if it has to do with how the world at large sees you. Because here’s the dumb truth: we can’t control how others perceive us, and as nonbinary babes, it’s often even harder since most of society has been taught to use our body’s characteristics to see us as men or women. You’re never going to be able to get everyone to see you as the perfect non binary person that you are, so instead of trying to, really think about what makes you feel good and do that. You’re the only person whose opinion about your body matters.

Lastly, get physical. Dance, go for a run, have sex, do a cartwheel. Use your body. When I feel dysphoric, it’s also super easy to only be able to think about the things that are wrong with my body. But when I’m active, I’m reminded of all of the amazing things I can do with my body, like shake my hips or experience pleasure. My body is not perfect, and right now, it’s not exactly the body I wish it was, but it’s working so hard for me, and it can do so many amazing things. It houses my heart, lungs, and brain, which keep me alive. My skin stretches when I gain weight and retracts when I lose it. Every minute of the day my body is doing so much work to keep me alive and healthy and that is a gosh darned miracle. You friend, being alive on this earth for all of these days, it’s a miracle.

So when you feel the dysphoria creeping up, address it head on. “Listen Jan, I know you’re trying to come in here and ruin my life, but my body is trying it’s hardest! And I’m proud of it for doing that and since I don’t demand perfection from myself, I won’t demand perfection from my body either, so get out!!!” And then, dance!! (I even made you a great playlist!)

Alaina is a 20-something working on a PhD in Performance as Public Practice. They are a mom to three cats, they listen to a lot of NPR and musicals, and they spend a lot of time on Pinterest lusting over studio apartments. They are actively trying to build A Brand on twitter @alainamonts. One day, they will be First Lady of the United States.

Cover Art designed by the incredible Isabella Rotman!

¡Hola Papi! Am I Expecting Too Much Out of Casual Hookups?

Welcome to ¡Hola Papi!, the preeminent advice column by John Paul Brammer, a Twitter-addled gay Mexican with chronic anxiety who thinks he can fix your life. If you’re a queer person facing a dilemma — maybe you’re thinking about dumping your partner (they forgot your birthday), fighting with your roommate (they never pitch in for groceries), or being haunted by a gay ghost in your attic (the screams won’t stop and the cleansing ritual has failed) — we’ve got you covered.

If you need advice, send him a question at [email protected]. Be sure to begin your letter with “Hola Papi!” It’s part of the whole deal.

Hola Papi!

I’m a chronically single bottom. I like casual sex, and while there’s weirdly not a huge gay casual sex scene in my city, I get by just fine meeting men on FetLife. I like being alone and belonging only to myself, and I like to keep my relationships casual. But here’s the thing: A lot of men seem to read “casual” as “one night stand.”

When the sex is exceptionally good, I can’t help but yearn to see a man again and again. Am I desperate for wanting to hook up again after a casual hookup? And if I enjoy casual sex so much, why isn’t a one-time mind-blowing session enough for me? Please help!

Love,
Bored Bottom

Hello, Bored Bottom!

I must admit, your question has stuck with me for the past week or so. I think it’s because I consider myself, if not a sex addict, then someone who thinks about sex too much for his own liking. Not that thinking about sex is inherently bad or anything — it’s just that I could be thinking about literally anything else. What would I rather think about? I’m not sure. My brain is too addled by sex.

Anyway, I have spent countless hours looking for sex — labor that absolutely does not square with the limited rewards. Occasionally, the sex is good. Most often, it is forgettable. Sometimes, it is terrible. I’m getting pretty tired of walking up some decrepit staircase in a weird apartment building, knees knocking, wondering if I am going to be murdered or merely disappointed. Sometimes I stop and think: What rational explanation is there for this behavior?

If I had to guess, Bored Bottom, “yearning” would be the culprit in both our dilemmas. It’s the proverbial carrot on the proverbial stick; the engine of wasteful, whimsical activity, like waiting around and hoping (amidst a sea of feedback that cautions us otherwise) that the ideal hookup will finally happen and launch us into an ideal situation with an ideal person. This isn’t restricted to sex and romance, by the way. People experience this in the realms of work and friendship, too. Yearning doesn’t discriminate.

Bored Bottom, do you ever wonder if the universe gives us just enough to keep us hoping for more? I believe it does! Because every once in a while, right when I’m about to give up on my Quixotic quest for the perfect Grindr hookup, one happens. Kind of. More like it halfway happens, which tells me the possibility of it all-the-way-happening exists, and so I continue. But this probably isn’t the universe’s doing. Only our own brains could fool us so utterly and completely.

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:Felix D’Eon