Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sex. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2013

Polyamory? Poly-Intimacy?


(From the October South Bay Poly newsletter)

Continuing from last month’s thought.  Looking back on my life, I see that I’m a lot more comfortable with physical affection—and sex—now, compared with how I used to be.  When I was young I felt threatened and intimidated, being rather shy and not terribly confident about myself, my body, and my personality.  I hope everyone eventually grows into feeling as comfortable as I do now—though I think some people don’t, for whatever reason. 

Maybe I just have a better idea now of what I like and what I don’t.  It isn’t so much that I disapprove of casual sex, or sex with strangers; it just isn’t something I enjoy very much.  It probably goes back to my original discomfort when I was younger—feeling uncomfortable with people I didn’t know very well, that I couldn’t relax with yet or trust.  I know there are people who don’t have this issue.

Also, I suspect that it isn’t so much the sex that I’m after, as it is the trust, safety, and intimacy.  I love to cuddle and become sexual with someone; I just need to feel safe with them first.  The question of multiple lovers is a separate issue.

And I think I need some expectation of a long-term interaction, not something that will be over immediately.  That may be a trust issue too.  Still thinking.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

The Poly-Love I Need






My latest effort for our South Bay Poly newsletter.  Perhaps I've got it, more or less, this time.

# # #

I’m trying this again.  For years I’ve tried to put my finger on, and explain, what polyamory means to me; why, for me, it is different from “free love.”  A few days ago I thought I had it; well let’s see.

For me it’s a lot like the “standard paradigm” of finding love—only with more people.  It isn’t “promiscuity” as I understand it; it isn’t “sleeping around.”  It isn’t “love for kicks with strangers.”  But it can happen with more than one person at once.

Maybe that’s it.  It isn’t sex with strangers I’ll never see again.  It’s getting closer to people I’m attracted to and am interested in; people I’d like to be close to for an extended time (possibly forever).

Not to say that “sex can’t be just fun.”  It can be.  But, for me, not with strangers.  I’m not comfortable enough with most people to enjoy physical closeness.  At the very least, if I’m with someone I don’t know very well, I have to feel like I’m becoming close to them.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Postscript to The Naked Civil Servant



The Naked Civil Servant, the film based on the autobiography of Quentin Crisp, is lighthearted and inspiring.  It’s inspiring in part because it is lighthearted.  Crisp took a lot of heat for being who he was: An honest, open, "effeminate" homosexual, back in the 1930s in England, when homosexuality was a criminal offense. The way he tells his story, part of how he survived was through a lighthearted approach to his troubles—you don’t see much angst in this film.  He and his friend, the club-footed woman, do discuss suffering to some extent; but it’s brief.

It’s possible that the only way someone could survive the indignity of constant contempt was to be honest and whimsical.  This combination provides the charm to this film.

In preparing to watch the sequel, The Englishman in New York, it helps to consider a few questions implied by the first film.

What are the roles of sex, of love, of friendship, of compassion, in this film?

At several points in the film, Quentin professes never to have experienced love; of course, he’s speaking of conventional love:  Between man and woman.  But it’s not clear whether Quentin experiences love towards anyone.  His first sexual experiences are as a male prostitute.  He and his clients get sex, and he gets money.  What might a gay man expect to get at that time?

He has relationships with four men in the course of the film:  The first is a man known only as Thumbnails (his thumbnails are somehow misshaped).  But Crisp claims this love was never sexual.  The second is a civil servant.  This is sexual, but not terribly exciting.  The third is a large man known as Barn Door, who after knowing Quentin awhile, declares they should sleep together; then, after another while, declares they should stop.  The fourth is a Polish man who has spent some years in a mental institution and is “sexual, but impotent.”  Not a very fulfilling list.

He has platonic friendships with several women:  The club-footed woman, who eventually becomes a nun; the wife of the Pole; a ballet teacher who is his landlady for a while.  These connections seem deeper than the relationships with the men, though non-sexual.

Friendship runs deep in this film.  Quentin is a friend of the Pole long before they are lovers.  He is friends with both the Pole and his wife.  The Pole later divorces the wife and marries the club-footed woman.  Crisp remains friends with all of them.  He is loyal to them, and they are loyal to him.  At perhaps the climax of the film, when Crisp is arrested for soliciting (many years after giving up prostitution), his friends proclaim his good character in court and he is found not guilty.

Crisp is compassionate as well.  In his relationships with men, it is always the other man who initiates the connection.  When questioned about his relationship with the Pole, he declares:  “Love is never closing your hand, not even to the unlovable.”

Looking forward to the film’s sequel, one might also consider the role of fantasy and make-believe in Crisp’s life.  At the beginning of The Naked Civil Servant, Crisp suggests a central image might be him playing dress-up as a young boy.  Certainly part of his endurance came from his refusal to concede to anyone that he was doing anything wrong.

But how does a world of wit and fantasy confront the dark realities of AIDS?  This becomes a major theme of the sequel.