DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’m a new female reader and in the day I’ve known you you’ve already helped me end an abusive relationship.

(That sounds a little dramatic, but your articles have definitely helped. Specifically: “When It’s Time To Break Up (and When It’s Not)”)

My boyfriend and I broke up this morning, and it wasn’t until just recently I decided to look into whether or not my relationship was actually bad, or if I was just overreacting like my boyfriend said I was.

There’s a lot that I want to tell you about our relationship– things you probably don’t care to hear, so I’ll just cut to the chase:

For months my boyfriend would tell me that I disappointed him on the daily. That when he came home from work, I should do things for him to make his life easier because his life sucked. That I should work on these large projects for him because he couldn’t draw and that I promised him that I would animate a cartoon for him a long time ago. And when I first started the project, everything was fine. I had the time to do it. But then I started to go to school full-time and I started working two part-time jobs; one of which was almost full-time on its own for a while.

He told me that in the few hours I had after school and before work, (which I usually spent sleeping, relaxing, or doing homework, after being out 13 hours+ in a typical day) that I should work on his project so that he wouldn’t have to do anything with his life. So that he could coast on his idea and on my hard work. Hard work that he would say wasn’t as hard as writing a script and that drawing that much should be easy for me. Eventually, I stopped working on it completely– a sort of defense mechanism with all of the disappointment he’d been throwing my way, I think. I was afraid to work on it at all, because when I looked to him for encouragement, all I got was: “That’s all you did?”

After a while- after my ignoring of comments like: “My cartoon is never going to happen. I have to give up on my dream and work at dead-end jobs for the rest of my life;” things were okay enough. I knew I would work on it again. I wanted to make his dream come true.

Eventually, if I did race back from school on time to see him for the short half an hour before he went to work, I would get comments like: “It was nice seeing you.” Or, if I stopped at a friend’s house or stayed at school to do homework, I would hear things like: “Thanks for coming home to see me, see you next week, I guess.” None of which he considered anything similar to emotional blackmail. If I even went out for the night– just once to relieve some stress with my friends, he would get jealous that I was making time for others and not for him. At certain points he even got mad at me for taking four hours to go see my family. They lived almost an hours drive away.

The only things that really peaked my relationship-awareness were a couple of friends who pointed out a few similar points about his actions towards me. At first I thought I was just complaining and over-exaggerating. Things weren’t that bad.. My friends were just sticking up for me, because I was only telling them my side of the story. Cody (the ex) was just having a rough-time lately.

My boyfriend and I drifted apart– we maybe saw each other an hour out of every day, and I started liking this guy at my work.. I wasn’t proud of this. I tried not to like this guy– he wasn’t even my type! Technically, still isn’t.. but your post: “The Problem With ‘Nice Guys'” has me getting worried..

This guy is a nice guy. A great guy, from what he’s shown me. He was there for me when I told him about my relationship problems with my ex, and listened when I hadn’t expected him to. I started to feel excited every time he walked into work, and we worked almost every day together for a few weeks. He’s much bigger in the hips and stomach than I’ve ever felt attracted to, so at first I thought it was just a silly crush that would pass. I’ve always been cool enough to be personable with overweight people, but vain enough to have never fallen for one. Previous notions telling me I had too many options, because I was the pretty girl, and that an attractive man would come along and sweep me off my feet– like I once thought Cody had. But this guy continued to be supportive, and I still find myself attracted to him. (I realize it sounds vain, and like I’m a stupid snob, but after more guys liking me than I care to count – more nerds than anything – the thought kind of sticks)…

Neither of us want to go beyond casual at the moment, because anything serious would affect our jobs (one of us would have to transfer). Also, because I just got out of a 3 year relationship that has me feeling emotionally vulnerable and would make him look like the rebound, which I don’t want to do to him.

I hate that his physical appearance has anything to do with it.. but I’m afraid that if anything were to happen in a sexual nature– should his clothes come off– that I would be turned off and unable to continue. I don’t want to put either of us in that situation.

I don’t want to hurt this guy, because of how good he’s been to me and his being exactly what I needed when my boyfriend was draining me of all of my confidence and self-esteem. A part of me is afraid that subconsciously I’ve been using him, and since reading your article: “The Problem With ‘Nice Guys,'” I’ve been afraid a part of him is using me, too. (..or is that vain, too?)

So, out of one problem and into another…

Could you please spare a spec of advice?

-Into The Fire

DEAR INTO THE FIRE: There’s a lot to unpack in this story, ITF and I’m not really surprised. You’ve been through the emotional ringer and it’s going to take some time to get your head straight and let your heart heal. Small wonder that you’re feeling like your chi’s all kinds of f--ked right now.

But as with any complicated situation, sometimes it’s easiest to just take it by it’s component parts, bit by bit until it doesn’t seem quite so daunting.

To start with: your ex. He was a passive-aggressive, manipulative dick by the sound of it, who didn’t have much in the way of respect for you, your wishes or your situation. He also clearly has no idea what goes into trying to work as an artist but that’s a different rant entirely (Can you tell I used to work as an illustrator? Don’t mind me…) Regardless: he was making you miserable and you sound as though you are well rid of him. You should be proud of yourself for being able to leave; it can be hard to extract yourself from a relationship that’s turned toxic, and it says a lot for your personal strength and resolve.

Considering how things went with him, it’s not terribly surprising that you’re a little hesitant when suddenly a new challenger approaches! After all, you’re fresh out of a bad relationship and still sweeping the emotional detritus out from the corners of your love-life when you’re starting to get all sorts of surprising feelings for this new guy. It’s too soon! And he’s totally nothing like what you’ve wanted before! WTF, gonads?

So now you have this new guy you’ve got a crush on and you’re full of questions. Is he a good guy or a Nice Guy? Has he been helping you out because he’s hoping that he can trade in all of his his Platonic Friend proofs-of-purchase for a Free Girlfriend Upgrade or because he’s a genuine friend who’s trying to support you through an incredibly trying time? Worse: are you using him as the emotional equivalent of a security blanket? And what about the fact that well… he’s fat?

Let’s start with the looks. Yeah, you’ve never been into bigger guys before, and to be perfectly frank, the way you describe yourself – being too vain to want to date a chubby – doesn’t exactly cover you in glory. But this guy still hits your buttons in a way that you haven’t felt before. This should tell you something: maybe it’s more than just looks. Maybe, just maybe, you’re into him as a holistic being instead of someone who hit the genetic powerball grand prize. Sure, there’re better looking guys out there… but can they make you laugh the way he does? Do they make your heart race at the thought of seeing them at work the way he does?

Attraction is more than facial symmetry and low body-fat to muscle ratios; it’s also about personality and humor, about shared values and goals, mutual interests and mutual respect. You worry that you’re too shallow to be sexual with him – that when the clothes come off, you’re going to be turned off. It’s understandable – you’re dealing with a body type that you’ve typically not been interested in. But I have a serious question for you: how much of that is just you haven’t been interested and how much of it is because of how you’ve been acculturated? You talk about being too vain to date a fat guy – but is that about how you feel or about how you feel others would judge you? Are you worried about what other people are going to say when they see you with him? How do you feel when you hug him? Does your heart race and your mouth go dry? Do you find yourself relaxing into him and enjoying the comfort of his arms? These will tell you more about how you really feel than trying to intellectualize it. Sometimes the body wants things that the head has problems understanding; many guys who are into bigger women – for example – often have a problem coming to terms with their attraction versus what society has told them they SHOULD want. Sometimes your heart and genitals know you better than your head does.

When you’re into someone, the way they look to you will change; your affection to them will make them more attractive to you. The parts that others may consider flaws are just part of what makes the people we care about uniquely them. You may find, for instance, that part of what attracts you to him is that he’s a big huggable bear.

What about the question of who’s using who? This is where you have to be willing to set emotion aside – difficult, I know – and take a cold hard look at how he treats you and how the two of you interact together. How did the two of you start becoming friends? Did he start trying to move in when you were having problems and he saw an opening? Or was he non-judgmental, offering support to someone who was clearly in pain without making it about trying to separate you from your boyfriend. Does he get in a huff when you bring up other guys, or does he take it in stride? Does he make a point of how much he does for you with the subtle implication that you owe him? Has he been trying to position himself as boyfriend material, or has he been treating you as a good friend who’s been having a hard time? Now that you’re single, has he been making increasingly pointed hints about dating him? Has his hanging out with you been all about how the two of you are soooo compatible and isn’t that just crazy?

Nice Guys are about obligation and entitlement – the problem with Nice Guys is that they feel that they’re owed sex just for base-line decent behavior. If your crush isn’t acting like that… well, it sounds like he’s just being a good guy.

What about YOU using HIM though? That can be a trickier one. After all, he’s been a source of emotional support at a time when you desperately needed it. It’s not difficult to see how maybe you’re mistaking gratitude – and someone who’s not treating you like s--t – for love. And maybe that’s the case.

But there are little clues here and there that tell me that maybe you care about him as a person, not as a crutch to help you hobble along as your heart recovers. The biggest tell: you’re afraid about what all this means. It’d be one thing if you were just merrily rolling along, content to suck up the feels he’s providing you. It’s another thing entirely when you’re starting to worry that you don’t feel as strongly for him as you think you might or that this could all be temporary. The fact that you’re worried about hurting him tells me two things:

1) You’re seriously considering him as relationship material.

2) You care about him enough that you’re worried that you’re going to f--k things up and hurt him.

These are good signs.

I get that you’re afraid of being in a rebound relationship, and it’s understandable. But don’t think that there is some designated length of time that you must wait before even considering a new relationship. Many people who’ve gotten out of long-term relationships have discovered that they were over their ex before they broke up in the first place. This could very well be the case for you: part of what made it possible for you to get out of your abusive relationship was that you were starting to realize that you would much rather be with your friend.

Here’s something I want you to keep in mind: not every relationship has to be with an eye towards Happily Ever After. Some relationships are short term by circumstance and some by design. I think the fear of a “rebound” relationship stems from approaching every relationship as though the end goal is marriage, 2.5 kids and the house in the suburbs. Sometimes a relationship can just be what you need at a particular stage of your life; just because it’s short doesn’t mean that it’s automatically a “failure”.

The key to any relationship is communicate, communicate, communicate. This means being up front and absolutely clear about where you are emotionally, what you can offer and where you see this relationship going. You’re clearly interested in this guy but you have concerns. All well and good. Tell him this. Be up front: you’re into him and you don’t know what this means… but clearly you want to find out. You don’t want to hurt him, so take it slowly and with the full realization that this may very well not work out in the long term.

I think you might be surprised at just how well things work out. Maybe it’s time to stop questioning things SO much and just take “yes” for an answer.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: My last (and first) girlfriend broke up with me because I’m a virgin, even though she said she wouldn’t hold it against me when I told her. She said she was afraid she wouldn’t love me if the sex wasn’t good.

She also said it bothered her when I told her I loved her.

How do I get over this?

Shot Down In Flames

DEAR SHOT DOWN IN FLAMES: So, I get a lot of comments like this whenever I write about virginity, especially male virginity, and more often than not it’s pretty clear that the story being presented isn’t what actually happened. This isn’t to say that people are lying, so much as slapping a very thick filter over everything that happened. It’s very easy to assume that the thing that YOU are most concerned with was, in fact, the reason the scenario you were afraid of occurred. Especially if it’s something you already believe marks you out as being one of the Great Unf--kables, someone who’s been given the bird by the Fickle Finger of Fate.

In reality, it’s almost never that least and clean. There’re usually other issues that actually prompted the break-up and the ONE issue — virginity, in this case — is the scapegoat.

But hey, you caught me in a generous mood, so while there is definitely a big ol’ [citation needed] appended to your letter, I’m going to take you at your word that this happened exactly as you say it did.

The problem here isn’t that you’re a virgin, SDIF. The problem is that you were dating an asshole. An asshole who, I might add, doesn’t seem to have really liked you all that much.

Now, I’m on the record as being firmly of the belief that it’s important to prioritize sexual satisfaction and sexual compatibility in a relationship. If one or both partners aren’t enjoying the sex they’re having in a relationship, that’s going to be a metaphorical stone in the shoe that’s going to ruin everything. Sex pretty much always wins in the end.

(And to be perfectly clear: sexual satisfaction and compatibility also encompasses people who are demisexual or asexual. Ace folks, especially sex-averse ace folks, who’re feeling compelled to have sex they don’t want are just as badly served by the relationship as couples having bad or unsatisfying sex.)

But while sexual compatibility and satisfaction are important and something to be prioritized, that doesn’t mean that virgins are shit out of luck by definition. To start with, being a virgin doesn’t mean being a bad lover, any more than having had hundreds of partners means that you’re amazing in bed. Much of what makes the difference between bad sex and great sex is clear communication, a willingness to listen, pay attention and take direction without letting your ego get in the way. Lots of folks — women included — have had great sex even though it was their partner’s first time.

By that same token, there are many, many women — including people who’ve written in, people who comment here and people in the Dr. NerdLove and NerdLove Academy Facebook groups — who’ve slept with virgins and many who actively enjoy it.

So while this singular woman broke up with you, presumably because you’re a virgin, that doesn’t mean that all women will. It means that you met one asshole. Maybe she meant it when she said she wouldn’t hold it against you and simply wasn’t able to keep that promise. Maybe she just said it because she felt like she should. Either way, it sounds like she treated you pretty callously and that’s a good sign that you’re better off without her. The fact is that, while this absolutely hurts, she did you a favor. The way she behaved marked her as someone you wouldn’t want to lose your virginity to. It doesn’t sound like she would be a caring, sensitive or communicative partner at all and your first time would likely have been disappointing at best. So you likely dodged a bullet here.

But there’s also the part of where she says it bothered her when you said that you loved her. Now without more detail it’s impossible to really say what’s up with that… but there’re two distinct possibilities. The first is that it bothered her because she didn’t care for you and hearing that you loved her made her feel bad because she knew she was going to dump you anyway. That’s on her. The second possibility is that you fell a little too hard and a little too fast and that weirded her out. Now that’s the result of inexperience and is something a lot of folks go through. That tends to be the sort of thing that you really only learn how to gauge by going through it. Again, it sucks… but it also sounds like your ex was someone you’re better off leaving in your rearview mirror. There are far better — and more diplomatic — ways of dealing with that situation and she basically failed at it entirely.

So all in all: I think you dodged a bullet, SDIF. It sucks it fell out this way, but it’s almost certainly going to be better for you in the long run.

That’s why the way you get over this is to recognize that you got lucky — not in the way you were hoping, granted — and move on to date other people. You met an asshole, but there are many many more women out there who are awesome and would love to take someone like you and show them the ropes. It may be a short-term relationship, it may be next love of your life… but those women are out there. And with time and experience (and you sound pretty damn young, SDIF) you’ll realize that this was a singular point in time, not something that’s going to define the rest of your life.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: As a 22 year old guy, I have no idea how to express myself sexually, since I’ve never really done that before.  It helps to state upfront what I’m looking for: when I say “express myself sexually”, I mean it fairly literally. I want other people to talk to about my desires and fantasies. I have a lot of “ideas” in my head and I want to meet other people who are into the same stuff as me. It’s really that simple. I’m not asking for the intimacy or relationship of a “sex partner”, because I don’t necessarily need a “sex partner” anymore than I’d need a “Star Wars movie watching partner”. Rather what I need is a kind of “fandom” I can join, or even just a “sexual friend” (not FWB, literally just “friend who’s into the same sexual stuff in the same way we’d like the same TV show”). I don’t need a full-blown relationship, just someone I can just “geek out” with and share interests with. It could be as simple as an adult pen pal, or someone I meet up with for coffee once or twice a month. I literally just want a safe place and a safe person to share myself with, and someone who can share themselves with me. I’m not asking for a full-blown swingers or BDSM club, just an adults-only space to talk to others about adults-only stuff.

On one hand, I understand this question seems a bit ridiculous because of how easy the need should be to meet even without your help. There are tons of groups and places out there in real life, to say nothing of the infinite variety of online communities. Why would anyone have trouble finding a place where they can talk about even the most obscure stuff?

For me, the problem is that I’m a very cautious, perhaps even paranoid person, and combined with my sexual naivety I just don’t know how to navigate and explore the adult world safely.

My sense of caution is borne from the fact that my life as a whole is more important than any sex life I could ever have. If I was guaranteed a 40-year career with decent pay and benefits, comfortable retirement, a nice house, respect by my peers in the field, etc and the condition was never experiencing any sexual pleasure ever again, I would take that deal. Contrariwise, I’ve come an enormously long way in my life, and it would be awful to ruin it all just because I wanted to have some fun. If I play my cards right I’m set for a very good life, but as far as exploring and expressing myself sexually as an adult, I don’t know what game I’m even playing. I don’t want to make a bad decision by not knowing what I’m getting into, get involved in something dangerous or illegal, and then have my life ruined just because I was horny and didn’t know what to do with myself.

As an example of how my problem works, I know there are message boards, subreddits, websites, chatrooms, etc dedicated to exactly the kind of stuff I like, but since people can easily hide who they are online, I don’t want to risk talking with somebody who turns out to be underage. As such, I don’t go to such places or do such things. No matter how much I want to interact with others, I don’t do that because I have too much to lose if something goes wrong, and the fear of something going wrong would ruin the fun of something that goes right.

To steal a metaphor from someone I heard once, my sex life is like being stranded in the ocean: surrounded by water, none of it drinkable. Or at least that’s how I’d describe the situation for online communities. With regards to real-life communities for adults, I’m in a desert: no idea of where to even find water.

Yet at the same time, I can’t help but feel that I’m too responsible and big-picture minded for my own good, that I’m over-cautious and paranoid, and that maybe I’m surrounded by tons of great options I’m just too scared to look into, or because of my naivety even safe things look scary since I don’t have the experience to know they’re trustworthy. Yes, it’s my determination that my life as a whole is better and more important than any sex life I could possibly have, but at the same time sexuality is a basic human urge, and I’m caught between “I can satisfy myself safely if I know what I’m doing. Hundreds of millions of people watch porn, role-play, go to strip/kink/swinger/BDSM clubs, etc and they’re just fine.” versus “I don’t know that much about the adult world or how to get into it, and even if I did the safest option is to do nothing.”. It’s a battle between “My fear is possibly irrational, and I can afford to have some fun.” versus “No amount of fun is worth the risk. Fear keeps me safe.”

My current solution is to avoid interacting with others for maximum safety and focus entirely on what I can do for myself. More specifically, I harness my skills as a writer and make stories for myself, but in a lot of ways this just highlights why I want another human being to express myself to: I’d like someone other than me to listen to and enjoy my fantasies. I’d like to know what someone else thinks of them, or what their own twists on my scenarios would be. I also want to learn about what someone else likes, even if I don’t like it as well. I know exactly what I like, but someone else has the potential to reveal something I didn’t even know I wanted, or offer some other new idea or perspective I hadn’t thought of before. Ironically, writing erotic literature for myself has taught me about what an adult “partner” and “intimacy” is really all about. It’s not just someone else who can make you orgasm. It’s the emotional connection of sharing our deepest desires with someone, and them trusting us with theirs. I want that experience of sitting down and talking to someone about our turn-ons as casually as we’d discuss our favorite movies. I want to know that part of someone, and I want them to know that part of me.

Once more, I’m not even looking for a sex partner or girlfriend, at least in the normal sense of the word. The intimacy I’m looking for is actually closer to being fans of the same sports team or TV show rather than sharing the same bed. Heck, I’m completely open to talking about myself to another guy. Literally anyone 18 or over who can say “Yeah, me too.” is fine by me.

Sincerely,

Cautious Yet Curious

DEAR CAUTIOUS YET CURIOUS: Yes, CYC, you’ve nailed it on the head already: you’re playing things far too cautiously, under the assumption that the stakes are far higher than you think they are. Your aversion to risk, quite honestly, borders on the pathological. Now, you don’t mention whether this aversion to risk strictly revolves around sex and sexuality, or if it reaches into other areas of your life… but either way, there’s a simple truth: there is no such thing as a life without risk. Everything in life, up to and including just getting out of bed, entails an element of risk. There is no such thing as a perfectly, 100% assurance of safety in literally anything you do. The questions you have to ask are:

1. How high is the risk of something going wrong?

2. What are the realistic consequences of that risk?

3. What can I do to mitigate that risk ?

4. Is the reward worth the risk?

Downhill skiing, for example, is an incredibly risky sport. People injure themselves or die every year because of the dangers inherent to the sport. And yet, tens of thousands of people go skiing all winter and spring — and most without injury. They’ve looked at the odds, they’ve taken what steps they feel are appropriate to managing that risk (wearing helmets, skiing on slopes that equate to their ability, etc) and the reward — the thrill of skiing — is seen as being worth the risk. Driving a car is, likewise, one of the riskiest things you can do. The statistics of people who are injured, crippled or killed because of driving are horrific when you look at them. But again: people gauge the risks, mitigate them as best they can and decide that the benefit is worth the acceptance of risk.

In your case, CYC, your fear of taking those risks is keeping you from reaching out for what you’re trying to find. After all, there’re a number of places where, if all you’re looking for is frank and open conversation about sex and sexual interests, there are quite literally thousands of places. The most obvious are online communities that are specifically oriented towards those discussions. And while many of them are more aimed at a prurient experience — that is, folks are looking to get off on these discussions — there are many that are specifically for folks who want to ask “is this normal?” or even just hash s--t out. Reddit has subreddits specifically for this. Fetish sites like FetLife, likewise, have forums that are for discussing of kinks and fantasies.

But what I think you’re probably going to want are sex educator or sex positive communities — the people who hang out in those tend to be loud and proud sex nerds, who like discussing sex for the discussion’s sake, rather than getting off. Considering some of the things that you talk about in your letter — including the parts I had to cut — you should probably start with Scarleteen; this is a sex ed site for teens and emerging adults. They have a number of resources, including message boards; these would be useful to you, and I would strongly suggest lurking for a while before participating so that you can get the vibe for the boards.

There are also a host of communities specifically for posting erotic fiction and hearing back from the readers. An Archive Of Our Own is possibly the most famous, though it’s specifically for fan-fiction, erotic or not. There’s also sites like Literotica, and of course, any number of subreddits and smaller forums to be found if you go looking.

But if I’m being perfectly honest, CYC, the issue isn’t whether you’re going to find a place to just geek out over sex and sexuality. It’s your fear that somehow this is going to destroy you. The things you seem to be worried about — that somehow you’re going to get in trouble for either talking about sexual activities or that you’re going to somehow be misled into illegal sexual activities — feels like it’s not just paranoia. A lot of the way you talk about this, from your word choice to the oddly specific fears, makes it seem like this is driven by shame, rather than garden-variety paranoia. There’s a real “sex is bad because it’s going to destroy your life” vibe to what you’ve written and it makes me wonder just where this came from. That’s not something that just crops up on its own; more often than not, this is something that’s instilled in people. That may be from educators, from religion and religious leaders or your folks. And honestly, that combination of shame, fear and ignorance is going to be a constant series of stumbling blocks for you, CYC. The irony of it is that this combo of shame and ignorance is far more likely to get you in trouble than browsing dodgy subreddits or making a FetLife account. The truth is that sex pretty much always wins in the end. It’s why gay conversion therapy is just torture by another name. It’s why people continue to have sex even when it could literally get them arrested or killed. 

That’s why I think what you need, more than anything else is education. And quite possibly a few sessions with a therapist to unpack this level of paranoia you seem to have. That’s one reason why I suggest you check out Scarleteen first and foremost; they’re going to be an excellent resource for you with practical and applicable advice and information both about sex in general and about your worries. But I would also strongly suggest finding a sex-positive counselor or therapist to help you with your worries about risk and your seemingly morbid terror of sex destroying your life somehow. The American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists has a great referral directory that can help you find a sex-positive therapist near you. And these days, most therapists and counselors will work with you via Skype or Zoom, and some will work via SMS or instant messaging apps.

While outlets like the forums on FetLife or AO3 may be a useful place for expressing yourself, I think Scarleteen and AASECT are going to be far more vital in terms of helping you manage your fears. I strongly suggest you start there.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com