Welcome to our third digital Pride, Queer Futures, of June 18th and 19th, 2022! To kick off our celebration, I wanted to share all the cool stuff we have planned for the coming weekend, and to say a few words about why we chose this theme.
The term "sexuality" can be used a lot like the word "sex." They're both terms we say and hear a lot, but which often aren't clearly defined. We take for granted everyone knows what sexuality means, a heck of an assumption to make with something that covers so many important things and can feel as murky as Lake Erie. So: what's it all about?
As it is on the road, being attentive to and giving clear signs and signals is a big deal between the sheets. If consenting feels complicated or confusing, here's a guide to clear it up.
It's obviously important if you're here for information that you know what we mean when we say "sex," so we thought we'd make it clear.
Usually sexual anatomy is taught through the lens of reproduction, so it’s only about penises and vaginas, testes and uteri. Seen through the lens of of pleasure, sexual anatomy looks different.
I experienced bisexual erasure when I was a teenager. The first crushes I remember having were on boys, but I’ll never forget the first time I met a girl and felt weak in the knees. I was thirteen years old. A year later I heard the term bisexual for the first time and felt like it described me.
The Care We Dream Of: Liberatory and Transformative Approaches to LGBTQ+ Health, edited by Zena Sharman, was created in collaboration with fifteen contributors from across North America, and "merges practical ideas with liberatory imaginings about what queer and trans health care could be, grounded in historical examples, present-day experiments, and dreams of the future. At its heart, The Care We Dream Of is a spell of transformation, one that’s both a loving invitation and an urgent demand to leave no one behind as we dream a more liberated future into being." In conversation with Garbiel Leão, Sharman talks about all this and more.
Dynamics like mine require a lot of honesty, and often speaking honestly can make you feel vulnerable, but showing vulnerability to a partner is a good way to build trust and intimacy. At the same time, you learn a lot about yourself as you're forced to ask yourself tough questions and to think carefully about what you want from a relationship and why - in turn, this makes you appreciate the reasons you want to be with your partner(s), and what it is about being with them that makes you happy.
It’s extremely disingenuous to pretend that everyone but men struggle with emotions, and doesn’t help liberate us from the toxic ideal that “real men don’t cry,” or exhibit sadness. Men who date other men have additional obstacles to navigate if both they and their partners have difficultly accessing vulnerability. That’s why I’d like to take the time with you to discuss how social norms have shaped the emotional health of queer men and how crucial vulnerability is as an empowering vehicle towards deeper connection and compatibility in your relationships. I’ll also share some tips with you on how to uncover your own latent feelings and offer some suggestions on how to share these thoughts with someone you’re interested in or dating.
If you’re a bisexual guy and you haven’t been with other guys yet, the idea might seem a little daunting, for a number of reasons. The reality doesn’t have to be so tricky, however, despite the worries you might have.