Adopting the label of “polyamorous” comes with enough raised eyebrows. When I am ordered to give something like an impromptu PowerPoint on “what that means,” the owners of the raised eyebrows are inevitably sorry they asked, as the confusing addition of “solo” requires its own entire presentation.
I make my way downtown to a hip Manhattan dog park. In olden times, youths frequented dog parks to relax, drink cocktails, and maybe find a fellow dog owner to take home. No longer. In this brave new world, all of the park goers clutch their phones and swipe furiously through the latest hookup app: Tindog.
GPS locator. After two months of dating—we'll call him Aiden—we decided to take a weekend road trip. Still in his work clothes, a lilac button-down shirt and black slacks, Aiden picked me up in his Volkswagen Golf on a Friday night. He pulled out a map and folded it down to the size of an index card, showing only the Northeast U.S. He slipped a pen in my hand. "Close your eyes and circle.” After…
Previously in this series. What I've Learned: If the man you're on a date with indicates that you're welcome at a major jazz musician's Calabasas house for his birthday party but it turns out that said musician has no idea who the man you're on a date with is... BE. FINE. I can count the times I’ve been ASKED to go out on my hand, and still be able to pick my nose. Meh.
Brook Shelley's previous work for The Toast can be found here. Welcome to lesbian trans womanhood. I know, we aren't supposed to say that. Welcome anyway. Let's assume you know two things: that you are a woman, and that you like other women. Good. That's a fine place to start. Follow along, and we will get you from this humble beginning, to being a real-live dater. Take a deep breath. Ready? 1. First, lower…
“I like naked boys better than naked girls.” This is my very first joke. I am four years old. My parents are allowing my brother, sister and I to sleep in the same room so that we can celebrate the installation of dozens of glow-in-the-dark stars on my sister’s bedroom ceiling. My brother and I are camped out on the floor while my sister, a wise twelve to our four and six, respectively, explains the…
I was bad at all things boy-related right from the start. By age 25 things hadn't gotten much better. I was oblivious to those who paid attention and enthralled by those who looked straight through me. It’s not the most unique description of a young adult’s romantic life as everyone was stupid and young once. Some of us continue to be stupid and old. On a Saturday night about three months out from my 26th…
The Toast's previous coverage of trans* issues can be found here. Let me start this off by saying that I am a woman and that is how I identify 95% of the time. Female is how I present myself to the world and it is usually nobody's business what kind of business I have in my panties. Even my driver's license says “female” and those things don't lie about anything except my weight. Unfortunately,…
The very first time, I used the worst excuse. I won’t say “the worst excuse in the book,” because that transgression in clichés would be very nearly as bad as my telling John, “I have to go to the bathroom,” somewhere between my bra falling to the ground and the faux-innocent trailing of hands along waistbands. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the lightest of touches are the least accidental. What I should…
One of the nice things about going back to where all your friends live is hearing dating horror stories, is it not? The two following dates were related to me in a hushed tone, and it is my great honour to share them with you. Your own terrible dating stories can find a home in the comments. Let me begin this narrative as it was first told to me: I had eight OKCupid dates last…
There are seven children around the table. My youngest brother has yet to be born. When he is, he will bring the total to eight. But for now, there are seven children circled around the broad oak table in the kitchen. The dishwasher hummed and ratted and the counters were wiped clean. The floors are swept and all that remained of our breakfast of biscuits and gravy and milk was the white crust around my…
Previous installments of The Toast’s advice column from two disparate and imperfect persons can be found here. Last time: Cultural Appropriation. I have recently started seeing a Gentleman Caller. Things have not progressed too far, but they have progressed rather more quickly than I expected. This concerns me because I come with a decent amount of baggage. Like, sexual-trauma-related-mental-health-issues baggage that I am actively working on, but nevertheless seems like would be relevant…
Dear User, Greetings! After almost 20 years of operation in more than 25 countries on five continents, eight languages, millions of photos, and hundreds of thousands of successful first dates, the time has come for those of us here at Match.com to announce that, as of this Friday, we're closing our doors. It's been a terrific run, and we're so proud to be able to say that we're closing because--after almost two decades in business--we…
