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#you’d also think that being a girl in a girl body would relieve gender dysphoria. nnnope!
hero-dualies-pog · 2 months
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just found out i’m agenderfluid. okay.
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It takes a village
Summary: ftm y/n comes out, scared of his dad's reaction but Tony Stark manages to be full of surprises.
📝words:📝 994
⚠️Warnings:⚠️ swearing, gender dysphoria, anxiety, transphobia (kinda)
💙Pairing:💙 Tony Stark!dad and reader!son
📎note:📎 hi! sorry for being gone for so long. I'm having a really bad writer's block but here's an old one I found. Also no proof read.
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Have you ever had to wake up to a body that didn’t feel like yours? A life that didn’t feel like yours? Have you ever had the urge to cry and throw up when you walk down to the kitchen in the morning and your dad greets you with ”good morning my beautiful daughter”? Have you wanted to scream: ”That’s not me!” ”I am not your daughter!”
Is PE just a relentless nightmare because of the changing rooms?
Is every waking moment pure agony?
If you answered yes to any of these questions you probably are Tony Stark’s daughter. Yes, daughter, because that’s how you were born. In a girl’s body, hating every second of it.
In the back of your mind, you knew your dad would accept you, you just didn’t think that you were ready to have that conversation. In some parts of your brain, you held back because you didn’t want to bother anyone with it. It always seemed like there was something more pressing at hand, you could do just one more day as Tony Stark’s daughter.
Your alarm clock disturbed your peaceful sleep, waking you up to reality. You groaned, remembering who you were and what today would hold for you. Thursday. School. Preparations for tomorrow’s charity ball, which you were also supposed to attend.
You had a dress fitting tomorrow morning, could not wait for that.
Dressing quickly for school, you made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the usual coffee and looking for something light for breakfast in the fridge.
”Good morning princess.” You heard your dad say as he walked in, you bit back on a groan before turning to face him and smile.
”Morning dad.”
The both of you sat down, enjoying the minutes of silence before Steve would walk in with something new to ramble about, he was really talkative in the mornings. Always bombarding everyone with questions. His voice could already be heard down the hall. He was talking with Natasha.
”Yeah but I don’t get it, why can’t I call her that? It’s her name.” Steve probed.
”Firstly, it’s not she, it’s he and second because his name is Elliot.” Natasha explained, clearly trying her best to remain calm while navigating through the kitchen for food.
It was quite clear to you that they were talking about Elliot Page. Steve had watched Juno last night and was more than confused when everyone kept talking about Elliot when that wasn’t the name that was credited in the movie.
Should you but in? Well, you should but could you?
”You know what, talk to her, she’s young, she knows more about these things. I’m old and I’m from Russia.” Natasha finally snapped. ”Her” was an indication to you. You had to explain to the 100-year-old man about trans people while trying to hide your own identity, that’s 3rd-degree interrogation right there.
Without missing a beat Steve sat in front of you, looking at you like you’d have all the answers in the world, all he had to do was listen.
"What?” You asked, trying to play oblivious.
”This Elliot thing, I’m confused.” Steve clarified.
”Well yeah, his name is Elliot and uses he him pronouns.” You tried to explain without going too much into detail.
”What are pronouns?”
”Well like she, her, he, him and even they and them.” You could’ve gone more in-depth with neo pronouns but you decided to cut him some slack since he was basically a grandpa.
”I don’t follow.”
”Well I am assuming that you go by he and him pronouns, right? That’s what that means. Natasha is most likely she and her. You understand how that works, don’t you?”
Steve’s face was blank as if he was still processing.
”So..” Steve began.
”He and him.” He said and pointed to himself.
”She and her.” Pointing at Natasha.
”He and him.” Tony’s turn.
Oh god.
”She and her.” He pointed to you.
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to not let emotion convey you.
”Y-yeah.” You wanted to stutter out.
There was something different about this. He pointed at you while he said it, it went right through you. You couldn’t stand another day being Tony Stark’s daughter.
”Actually, no.” You corrected, already feeling the anxiety beginning to bubble. Hands getting shakier, breathing just that much harder than you knew you couldn’t breathe properly.
”Wait now I’m confused.” Steve said and put his hands up as a sign of giving up.
”Dad, I’m not your daughter anymore. Haven’t been for a long time.” You confessed, trying to keep it lowkey despite your anxiety. You could tell that your voice was shaking, you cursed yourself for it.
Tony seemed to have frozen, staring down at his cup of coffee.
Fuck. Shouldn’t have said anything.
Tony cleared his throat.
”So we should probably get you a suit, right? Can’t have you wearing no dress tomorrow night.” Tony turned to smile at you.
The anxiety that had bubbled in your chest, threatening to overspill, had died down.
You let out a relieved sigh, the weight finally off of your shoulders.
Tony pulled out his phone. ”What name should I put for the suit fitting tomorrow at 10.30 AM?”
”Y/n”
”Hm, it fits you. Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He said and reached to give you a shoulder rub and a warm smile.
A plate clattered against the table, the table sliding towards you. ”Pancakes for y/n,” Natasha said and offered you a smile.
You couldn’t be Tony Stark’s daughter. What you could be was Tony Stark’s son.
The suit was fitted to you, a jacket to give the illusion of wide shoulders and straight-legged pants.
And when the inevitable wave of anxiety came right before you were supposed to walk past all the reporters, Tony was there. Offered your shoulder the familiar squeeze.
”It’ll be alright.”
And it would be, eventually, because you were y/n Stark, Tony Stark’s son.
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anyu-blue · 3 years
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~
Hey I'm rambling about stuff in my own head again. Trigger warnings apply- specifically those dealing with therapy, dysphoria, self harm, relationships, and stuff like that. :T
I don't really understand it... For quite a while there I was fine. Content even to just let things slide. I think it was because I felt secure where I was (with Lon) and blocked out a lot that doing therapy has brought screaming to the front of my mind... But I could be wrong and I feel confused and conflicted again.
At one point (before Lon) I had settled down when my previous therapist basically gave me permission to call myself androgynous. She told me it was okay- if that's what I felt, then I could use it.... I felt very relieved and much less ruffled. There was still a nag in the back of my head, but it was quiet enough I buried it... For the most part...
Getting with Lon brought quite a few forward and I insisted he understand I am/was not a girl. He also seemed content and sweet and more than accepting... Until he wasn't.. looking back.. Lon said a LOT of weird or off things he either never came through with or downright switched on.. especially near the end. EVERYONE in his family and friend group assumed and pushed the 'girl' thing... And that nag got a little louder..I pushed back (gently) reminding Lon with little things here and there that I wasn't... But still 'she' and overwhelming compliments on my feminity buried me under them. In the end... I know it was driving me crazy (literally) and probably Contributed more to the mess than I understood at the time.
But it also wasn't a push even.. just the assumption.. I believe that because right now my hackles are raised so high every time someone says 'she' to or about me I BRISTLE. I want to yell or (depending on who it is) quietly tell whomever is doing it to stop.. tell them they're wrong... Most aren't doing it maliciously, I know.. it's just what they see. I feel pressured or pushed. It's really weird and extremely uncomfortable. It's confusing too because.. I don't know... I can't see how they don't see me as different than 'girl'... Or heaven forbid 'WOMAN.'
*shudders*
My therapist and I are exploring the feelings around when these things are said to me... And she's proposed doing something about my anger and frustration like squeezing Something or something or just outright accepting it... Basically ANYTHING other than telling people my business... But the problem is, I've told her... I want to BREAK things.. I mean I don't... But I feel the urge to. To hit. To yell. To scream. To cry. To crush. To run. But I don't. In some ways I can't.... Squeezing Something when I'm angry hurts me. My grip is incredibly weak (always has been no matter what I've tried) and everything pops painfully. Or it pinches my skin and hurts... So I've developed a reflex to do the opposite of squeeze or hit things (which certainly hasn't helped the weakness issue lol)... And even if I do try to do those things.... It's never enough. I can't go and go and go like I want to. It just makes me madder. More frustrated. It's never satisfying or as releasing as People tell me it should feel. I just want more. And more and more and more. And in the end I'm usually left a sobbing mess that's completely spent, but still so mad and frustrated... Feeling those feelings even more. Sure I'm tired enough to pass out.. but I wake up.. and everything is still there.. usually coupled with depression because it's STILL THERE... And I couldn't get it out. I don't feel better or lighter or more free.. I feel heavier.. sadder... Worse. I used all that energy and nothing came of it.
And I don't understand!! I really don't. Why I'm never satisfied... Why I've always always been so angry... I was told I was an extremely cruel child.. I remember a little too.. I always wanted to act, but was pushed down.. and even when I did, it never felt good or like it was enough.. I swear I could tear an entire house down by myself with nothing but my own two hands and I STILL would want to do more.
...
And I'm feeling all of these things with gender...
Tevs said to me she thinks I 'want to be a boy because our mother always wanted a boy and [I] always wanted her approval.' ... I can't deny that MAYBE it had an influence on me. MAYBE...
But... I don't WANT that witch's approval anymore. I don't care about her distain either. I don't want her ANYWHERE NEAR my life, it's MINE not hers.. and I'm really pissed off no one can seem to take the damn hint I am 110% DONE with her and anything to do with her. She HAS a son to raise now. And a loving husband who had her adopt him. And good friends and whatever else she has in her life. I am OUT of it. And I want to be out of it forever.
.. it feels demeaning when Tevs says that it's all from that to me.. she's done it more than once, and of course I'm upset by it every time.
... I just want to be me... And every time someone looks at me and tells me I am beautiful.. or pretty.. or a wonderful woman... I just want to cry... To go hide.. I feel so ashamed.
...
Here's the thing.. I AM attractive. I AM beautiful, hot, resilient, kind... Just about everything you'd associate a woman with... I was walking to another area in my workplace just tonight and caught a glimpse of myself as I did so in our big windows... The way I walk. My silhouette. Everything about me... Is envious.
I'm not saying these things because I'm vain.. I'm saying them because if I compare my body and gait and everything to the People alongside me- even the guests I see coming in- I can see it as clearly as everyone else who tells me I'm this pretty thing does... I'm not sickeningly skinny and I'm not fat. I'm not super tall nor short. I'm right in the middle with an ass and legs People tell me they'd kill to have... If I were to wear proper bras, I have a chest they'd love too- not too heavy and not unnoticeably small... But I wear ones that squish my chest so it looks like I have less (and that might be why I have such glaring problems with my ribcage sliding out of place all the time. I'm crushing everything XP).. take a guess as to why I started doing that...
I can't hide my hips... Nor my legs... I've got cute feet too. And hands... So dainty and fine- just enough bone and plump in the right places... It's no wonder I am the envy of my poor (adopted) cousin desperate to be a model and a star.. poor girl. She's beautiful in her own right, but her genes have made it so hard for her to fully dive into her confidence... My dad told me we are rivals and have always been... And my heart breaks for her because I'm not even trying... I want her to succeed!! To be the one in the spotlight!! I want to stay in the background so she can shine... But I always get pulled forward and somehow she's in my shadow (despite being taller than me).. and she can't stand to be near me.. even when I am trying my hardest to let her lead or to say things kindly or in her favor.. I can't seem to win... So I don't really have a relationship with her at all.. Though I really wanted to.
When I don't hide.. when I do 'dress up'... There's so many compliments. If I run into ANYONE from school when I do... *Gags* the compliments, disbelief, and shock... I remember EVERY prom... People not knowing who I was... Or being shocked if they did recognize me straight out. All 4 years... And it made the ostracization worse. My class was AFRAID of me. I was this shy/frumpy (also angry) little thing.. but I still remember being stared at changing after gym whenever there wasn't a stall for me to hide in.. I personally at the time thought it was because I was so ugly/fat they couldn't help themselves... Going through everything in therapy.. I realize it was because I was so skinny under all my baggy clothes.. and really pretty under the acne/hood/ugly glasses. I wasn't bullied just because I was smart/loved to learn... I was a threat and didn't even know it. The envy of my peers. And it's so sad.
I did wish to be like them.. so confident. So able to fake it. To do my makeup and wear cute things and to feel right somehow... But I never did. I tried.. but couldn't stand the clothes.. or the comments about my ass... Or all the things they focused on whenever I came close to succeeding. I couldn't seem to get it right. I just wanted to hide whenever I stood out... It never felt right.
It got to the point I was AFRAID to wear dresses and skirts. Terrified. Everything felt wrong with the world when I did. I felt like I was faking Something. Like I was purposefully being awful... Lying..
I wear some now because I was cheered up by the idea of genderqueer people and some men finding comfort in wearing them and in some ways them becoming more acceptable by all genders... Plus they're reeeally comfy sometimes. And it's nice to just be able to throw on a dress with built in pads during the summer heat wave than to worry about all those damn layers XP ... And I recognize that no one is going to question me or think I'm lying when I wear any... They don't see what I have in my head.
I do recognize that some of this stuff has trauma tied to it... And I'm confused because I don't know where the trauma ends and I (my own genuine thoughts) begin... I was not treated kindly at home- even outright being called ugly in a derogatory manner.. granted I now know those comments mostly came from a pedophile disinterested in me and the pedophile's own manipulation of my mother and her family's opinions (gaslighting and twisting to where I really was the horrible child in all ways) AND I know that I am not neurotypical which caused some other unfortunate treatments in and around my home.
I don't know where to go with it... Or why I'm so viscously against being called a girl or a woman. Why it's setting me off so bad right now. I just know that it is... And for some reason every time I'm alone or not really thinking of it... I don't think of myself as one. Not at all. And when I'm reminded.. I'm often startled by it and confused and need to process the information for a second... Despite 'being' one for all of my life... I've continually had the problem I don't expect what I see in the mirror either.. especially since puberty.
If I could show you what I think/feel most of the time... I think this would be the closest I could get- just make the chest straighter/flatter... It bugged me to no end to add that detail in and still does to this day, but I was going off the model (me lol). I don't feel like Anything... But I want to be something.. and that Something is... Not this. Not this...
But where do I go? What do I do?
I'm terrified of surgeries... I don't want massive scars (not that I mind scars- in fact I LOVE them. They're so cool!! But I don't want people to KNOW you know? Not that. Not Something that is such a private matter... I don't want to believe or go after something for it to be wrong too... And I don't feel I can afford any of it anyway 😞 even if I did want to try or actually found the right one... I would be so depressed to never be able to reach my goal.. and I feel I've held myself back due to that fear too...
I know another reason I haven't tried anything or spoken up or anything is because I have this strange desire to pass on my genetic legacy. It is such a powerful urge I am TERRIFIED of losing the ability... People tell me about adoption all the time as a great option, and it IS a great option for the children... Because I would do ANYTHING for my own... But it's this terrible terrible feeling I wouldn't feel I could claim them as my own and it would leave something still empty inside of me and I wouldn't be as loving because of it and that kills me... It sounds terrible too!!
I would do almost anything to have my own child... When it comes to pain tolerance or body changes I know I would have the hardest time than most if I were to get knocked up.. but I have that thought that it would be worth it because they are MINE.
I've thought about egg donation.. because I feel it would make me feel better to know I succeeded in passing on the line to someone better off and worthy of having children... But I feel I have too many genetic issues or would be an undesirable candidate or I'd feel terrible if the child died and then I didn't succeed...
Lol I think of things oddly... And that makes me think I don't deserve to have children or donate too... Never mind the actual process XP boy... Complicated~
So I've never tried... I am also quite poor and know I would struggle to raise a child. Even just one. And if I were to have twins (as I'm the generation that is supposed to)... I have even more worries... And I don't want a child or children to grow up with the struggles I had or worse than I had like they likely would if I just went for it.
...
I knew I felt more sure when I was with Lon because he apparently wanted/wants kids too... And it was in the plan (Maybe. Maybe not. It's possible he was the one messing with my medication alarms and trying, but also possible he just wanted sex... Because he told me before he left that he thought he was infertile for a long time (and there's some pretty strong evidence to suggest he's got weak swimmers lol but I'm not going to divulge what that stuff is) so it may have been a lie all along... But I didn't know and felt assured and safe with that path at the time)...
*sigh*
Idk what to do... I know I'm messed up about it all.. and I know my knee jerks and feelings... But I don't exactly trust myself or my memory or my reasons... I am only human... And I feel so lost.
I know what I envy... Very much.. and what I would choose if I could... But... Life just doesn't work that way... And science is so stunted it likely won't in my lifetime.
*snort*
I feel the worst thing that my dad ever said to me was when I told him and his wife that I wasn't a girl... I don't remember if I told them I was neither or would prefer to be a guy... But I do remember my dad's response... He told me 'go ahead and you do you, but I want you to know that no matter what, you're always going to be my little girl. I just can't think of you any other way, because you are. You're my little girl.'
And I just... It struck me so badly (obviously, I still think about it)... And made my heart so heavy. I... Understand... To the extent I can... And I don't want to... Lose him because I can't accept that... But.. I feel like it's only pushed me to lose myself... To.. just stay. Take the 'easy' route. To 'accept' it (except we can see how well THAT'S going).
*sigh*
I don't know...
The only thing I do know right now is I have this fantasy about... Going away for a while. More or less disappearing for 5 to 10 years... And coming back... How I want to be/see myself... And seeing what everyone would think...
Tevs thinks I only want it because of trauma. Dad thinks I'm always going to be his daughter. Everyone else is so sure I am a woman...
And maybe they're right... (I mean TECHNICALLY lol I can't exactly argue with that 😂)... And I would be trying to let my 'good looks' and all that 'go to waste'...
...
If I could trade someone... 100%... I would. I'm a pretty/beautiful/attractive looking body... (My face is debatable lol but whatever)... I wonder how come am I not happy about it...
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mx-mystic · 6 years
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Patient #6-C-1 (Aether)
I sit in the waiting room of Dr. Bright's office, idly chatting with Sarah. Just little things. Things like how married life is going and what lovely flowers they'd gotten from a patient. They were a lovely peachy-orange colour.
The good doctor's door opens after a few minutes and a light conversation about diet plans. A girl with a brilliant smile walks out and Joan ushers me inside. 
She fetches my file from a shelf and starts recording the session, as she does, marking the start of the recording with, what I assume is the front page of said file. "Patient #6-C-1. Session 19. Patient is 16 years of age, gender nonbinary, and exhibits well-controlled minor self-modification." She motions for me to take a seat and does the same herself.
"Good morning, Aether. How have you been this past week?" she asks in a voice that is genuine and calming.
I shrug. "Average, I guess."
"Average?"
"Yeah... Kinda out of it, but otherwise... nothing too remarkable."
We make small talk for a few moments, refusing to hang on an awkward silence, until the 'real' stuff comes up.
"So, Aether, have you said anything to your parents yet?"
I shake my head, feeling more than a little bit disappointed in myself.
My parents have known about my ability since I discovered it myself. I mean... who wouldn't notice when their 12 year-old wakes up and their hair that was once an everyday hue had turned into what essentially looked like swirls of cotton candy pinks and blues overnight? From then on, I’d been picking out hair and eye colours like they were accessories, ranging from simple brown hair blue eyes to today’s gold eyes and sky blue hair. Needless to say, that wasn't what Joan was worried about. 
She was wondering if I had come out to my parents--if I'd told them that I'm not a girl. If I’ve told them my pronouns or my chosen name.
"There's nothing to be ashamed about. You told me last time  that you had a speech prepared. Do you think practicing would help? I'm not going to push you, but if you think it may be beneficial..."
I look at my hands, clenching and unclenching my fists. "I... I don't know..."
"That's fine. We can come back to this later, if you'd like?" I nod. "Alright. Have you gotten any progress with your ability, yet?"
I hate that question. It pops up every meeting, which should be expected with the kind of therapy this is, but it still gets me nonetheless. Mostly because I hadn't gotten anything past the hair and eyes. I can't even add a freckle to my skin. Trust me, I've tried. Suddenly, I'm in tears.
"I'm sorry, Aether. Here." She hands me a box of tissues. 
"It's not you," I say, voice already ragged from crying. "I'm just so... frustrated! With myself!!" I can feel the anger in the pit of my stomach. "Being the way I am was hard enough before I could change my features. Imagine being able to change everything but what actually matters! I can't change my height, my voice, my chest!! I can't change my muscle tone or how wide my hips are! I can't change anything that would actually make a difference! Dysphoria is bad enough in my friends who can't change like I can, but not even being able to tweak my body just a little on days that I think I look a little too feminine? You can't even imagine what it's like to be this close to your goal--to have relief from the torture of being unable to have others see you as you truly are within arm's reach--and it just evades you by the smallest of margins." My tears have stopped, reduced to streaks and red spots on my face. I don't know when it happened, but apparently I've been standing?
There's a moment of silence and I can feel the outburst diffusing all the tension from my body. "I feel... better."
She nods. "Many times, all we really need is to spill our thoughts in a safe place. It's entirely natural and reasonable to just want to shout out everything that you're feeling and I'm always happy to listen."
"I think... I think that's all the shouting I'll be doing for a bit," I reply, feeling both embarassed and relieved.
She chuckles a little in response--not condescending, but amused. Like I reminded her of something. "Do you think you'd be up for a few excrecises?" We start with meditation, visualization, and working on my self-image, before moving to mindfulness, and lastly focus exercises. As usual, I'm trying to focus on essentially 'copying' a tattoo onto my left wrist. And, as usual, I end up getting a tiny line before it quickly fades away, like a single drop of ink in an ocean.
"It stayed longer that time!" Dr. Bright says, enthusiastically. "That means you're getting better!" She's not wrong. It did stay for a solid ten seconds, beating the previous record of seven, but it's kinda hard to consider that an improvement...
Nonetheless, I let her guide me through the end-of-session meditation, alleviating the frustrations of that exercise and the rest of the session while also attempting to break down any mental walls that I may be putting up to avoid reaching my goals.
Lastly we finish off with one of my favourite exercises. Dr. Bright takes out a mirror and a box of crayons--and I mean the giant one with a pencil sharpener in the back. I mentally prepare myself and nod when I'm ready.
"Eyes," she says, holding up a scarlet crayon. When I adjust my eyes to the colour, she writes down a time and pulls out another. "Hair." 
We continue for a few minutes. Occasionally she'll hold up multiple colours, prompting me to make one eye purple and the other silver or turn my hair into a nebula of bottle green, cerulean, and pink. I can't help but laugh at some of the combinations.
Before the end of the session, she asks if there's anything else that's been on my mind or if we're calling it a day. I tell her that I think we got everything. I thank her and return to the lobby to set up my next meeting.
When I leave, my eyes are midnight purple and my hair is a peachy-orange. Under my breath as the door chimes it's goodbye, I begin practicing. "Mom, dad... there's something I need to tell you."
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sinesalvatorem · 7 years
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Taking Me On A Date: A Comprehensive Guide
(As comprehensive as I can make a Tumblr post I wrote on the spur of the moment, that is. I will try to update over time with more info and links. You can also use this as general advice on interacting with me.)
I recently got into some conversations about how and why someone might want to take me on a date. As such, I’ve decided to write up in one place as much as I can figure out about what I’d want out of a date and what other people should expect from me.
What I Like:
I am bisexual, and am happy to go on dates with people of any gender/sex. I lean androphilic, which means I’m into a cluster of traits that tend to be correlated with maleness. I find testosterone-influenced features and masculine gender presentation and stuff to be sexy. However, they’re just part of what I find attractive, and I can be attracted to people with very little of either.
I’m someone with a mostly-male body (I haven’t been on HRT very long) and a very feminine personality / presentation / behaviour set. I can be reasonably described as a transgirl, though these days I’m somewhat confused by what being trans means. However, the important thing to note is that in any situation with gender roles I will almost certainly be most comfortable and happy in the female one.
This means that, among other things, I’d like you to take the initiative as much as possible. Suggest what we do, place an order on my behalf (after consulting me, ofc), escalate things yourself, etc. If things are going well, I would very much like it if you tried to kiss me (or asked to kiss me, if you prefer). [How to tell if I want to be kissed] If I really like you but I have to take the initiative to go anywhere, I will have a hard time, because doing so is very out of sync with my personality. I can and will do it if it’s clear that we both want it and you aren’t moving, but be aware that this is vastly dispreferred.
I also really like being complimented. You can be as shallow or silly or dramatic as you want, and I won’t interpret your compliments as fake or be repulsed by them. For more on how I perceive (and use) complements, see here.
I usually enjoy physical contact. In general, leaning against me, resting your hand on my leg, putting your arm around me, etc are all very nice. If for some reason they aren’t, I’ll pull away and say something to that effect. However, this is rare. Overall, err on the side of touching me, if you would like to. Kissing is as described above. If making out (ie: sustained, enthusiastic kissing) ensues, you can grope to your heart’s content.
Going on a date with you does not necessarily mean I would like to sleep with you, nor do I assume that everyone who goes on a date with me would like to sleep with me. However, it is a possibility. What I like sexually is an essay in itself but, luckily, an essay I’ve already written. You can read the guide to my sexual preferences here or browse my NSFW blog here.
What I Dislike:
Please do not issue direct commands to me for any reason. For anything you would command me to do, you should just ask me to do it instead. Seriously. Using the imperative with me ends very badly. Please consider this a hard limit.
I don’t like being talked down to. Don’t get me wrong - I like learning about things. However, talking to me like I’m too dumb to get what you mean, or saying things to the effect of “Oh, of course you wouldn’t know this”, will generally annoy me quite a bit. I like feeling like I’m learning something collaboratively with someone else, rather than providing them with an opportunity to feel superior.
Relatedly, I don’t like getting into heated arguments on dates. Especially if it’s in a public venue. I’m OK with arguing in a general sense, but it kind of counteracts the date experience. Here I can’t say I’m perfect - I might very well make the comment that leads to the argument. However, if I notice that this has happened and point it out, I would very much appreciate it if you were willing to set the argument aside for another time.
If I state a boundary in advance, please DO NOT approach it in the expectation that I will stop you at the right time. I encourage you to verbally ask what to do about something that seems like an edge case, but do not give the impression in your actions that you’re going to violate the boundary because you expect me to enforce it myself.
For an example taken from a Less Wrong thread:
Person 1: The other week I was making out and cuddling with a girl, and we'd already explicitly negotiated that we wouldn't be having sex. So at some point we were spooning, and I asked "Can I touch your breasts?". She hesitated, so I said, "Ah, that's a no, don't worry". She was obviously relieved, and we continued without any problems. This sort of thing only comes up a small minority of the time, but when it does I think it's actually pretty important to verbalise things. So I'm wondering whether you have a different system, or just never find yourself needing to check in with someone that directly?
Person 2: With the breasts, no, I wouldn't explicitly ask in that way. Hands go on body, hands caress slowly toward breasts. Pay attention to response. Another way is to look where you intend the hands to go, and go there. Perhaps a comment on the breasts first.
Person 1:  For me it really depends on my model of what I think they want. Like, assume I'm pretty sure that there'll be a line somewhere. Obviously, the right thing to do isn't just "escalate until they give an explicit 'no' (either verbally, or by moving my hand away)". But even if you just proceed cautiously and keep gauging their response, they're likely to spend a lot of the time thinking about when/whether you're going to push past where they're comfortable, and steeling themselves to give that no when it happens. Especially with girls, most will have had more than a few negative experiences with pushy guys.
What person 1 did is an example of what I’m in favour of. What person 2 did would freak me out. Person 1′s response perfectly illustrates why. I frankly do not have the mental energy to keep track of how close you’re coming to overstepping my boundaries so I can enforce them. If you want to go further, please use words first.
(Note that I’m not saying that what Person 2 did is in any way Universally Bad. It probably works fine for some people. However, it does not work for me. I am writing this guide in advance specifically because what works for one person may not work for another, and I want to clarify where I stand.)
How To Communicate With Me:
When speaking to me, there is basically no need to worry whether what you’re saying to me is too private/TMI/unwanted/etc. I have no “Woah! Too much information!” reaction to speak of. If you’d like to tell me something, I’d like to know it, because I am infinitely curious about everyone. I am always in favour of deepening knowledge. (However, I will generally try to track how I speak to you to ensure I’m not stepping over any of the usual boundaries. This is me asymmetrically giving you permission to disregard that for me.)
I am somewhat guess culture in that I can’t clearly communicate my preferences one-on-one in-the-moment. (Which is why it’s so much easier to just write up this Tumblr post in advance.) Here is a very detailed explanation of what’s going on with my communication style. In case you TL;DR (though it’s only 2 pages), the important bits to note are:
I encourage people to ask me whenever they want something from me, because communication needs to happen somehow. If you can hedge it by giving me an obvious acceptable out (“but I know it’s far away…”, “but if you’re too busy…”, etc), that would be great, because it would feel 100% safe, but you don’t have to.
If you give me an out and I don’t take it, but I do raise an objection, assume that’s my true objection and you can troubleshoot it. If you don’t give me an out and I raise an objection, it may be my way of grasping for an escape clause. In that case, only troubleshoot to the first level, and back off if I keep giving excuses. If I start trying to pull out my hair, you probably broke me.
I view going on a date as exploratory. I want to learn how much I like you and how well we get along. I can usually tell pretty quickly how well I like someone from the cues I pick up in interaction. By the end of a first date, there’s a ~80% chance that I know whether I’m into you. However, if I’m unsure, I’ll lean toward trying another time. You can definitely ask about scheduling a second date right after the first one, and you can call me back as soon as you want. Rules about how long you need to wait are silly IMO.
I hate talking on the phone or via email. Instant messaging through Tumblr or Facebook is preferred, and SMS is OK. Even so, I am sometimes bad at keeping in touch with people online, even if I like them a lot and/or can consistently meet them in person. More details here.
I am OK with you being as explicit (or crass) as you want about the degree to which you’re into me from the get-go. This could be “You’re OK to hang out with” or “You are what gives the universe meaning” or anything inbetween. Yes, I’m completely aware of how weird that is in a first date context. No, I don’t particularly care that it is. (I will probably avoid being weird, though, because not everyone is as weirdness-tolerant as I am.)
After the date, if you invite me to go back to your house, I will assume that this is a polite way of asking to sleep with me, because this is how that’s generally used. (You can also directly ask me if I want to have sex with you but, if you’re looking for a polite way to ask, this is ideal.) If you ask me to head back to your place and I don’t want to sleep with you, I’ll decline, which works well enough if what you were actually asking was whether I wanted to sleep with you.
However, it’s possible that you want to invite me to hang out at your house for non-sexual reasons! And then my declining would be unfortunate if I actually did want to hang out more! In that case, you can say you want me to go home with you “for non-sexual reasons”. In that case, I won’t assume that you definitely don’t want to sleep with me, but I will assume that you won’t be disappointed if I decide not to. If you don’t want to sleep with me, or you do want to while also wanting me to visit for other reasons, this is the way to ask.
Logistics:
I live in the San Francisco Bay Area so, if you also live there, you can go out with me now. If not, you may be able to go out with me if/when I visit your city in the future.
To the greatest degree possible, I want you to plan it. Of course I want you to consult me on what I want and to ask if I approve of the place/time before we go but, the more you take over the planning, the more I’ll enjoy it. From The Art of Charm:
If you want the girl to like you and enjoy herself on the date, then you’ve got to take control every step of the way.  Deciding what to do, where to go, how long it will take – all that logistical stuff – it’s all up to you.
The ability to lead is something all women find attractive in a guy.  And by taking on this burden of responsibility, it means that the girl you’re out with doesn’t have to worry about these things.  She can just relax, go with the flow, and enjoy herself and the time you’re spending together.
Frankly, the claim that “all women” find this attractive is false. However, I find this attractive in people, so I won’t deny that this is good advice about me. Specifically, the thing about it relaxing your date would be super true of me, and I will definitely enjoy my time with you a lot more if I can focus on you instead of on logistics.
Getting around will require me using the train system unless you want to pick me up yourself or pay for an Uber/Lyft for me. I can’t drive and I have a vendetta against buses. As such, I would appreciate it if we met up somewhere near a Caltrain or BART station.
I try to be very clear on whether I’m going to show up to something. If I cancel, I try to say so as far in advance as possible, and I also like to form plans at least two days in advance (preferably 3-5). I also try to confirm via messaging whether we’re definitely getting together on the day of the meeting, so the other person can back out. I am sometimes late due to the vagueries of the train system (or annoyingly early, because I almost always leave home early), but so far I’ve never flaked on my dates without saying anything. I would strongly encourage you to likewise tell me in advance if it isn’t going to work out - doubly so if I make the 5½ hour roundtrip to Berkeley (which I’m willing to do if we actually meet).
If things involve money, I would greatly appreciate it if you paid. This is because I’m broke (am recent immigrant who is new to the jerb-thiefing). However, don’t worry about me being an expensive date - you can openly optimise for thrift and I’ll be down with it. I also try to order things from the cheaper end of the menu. I disapprove of spending other people’s money as much as I disapprove of spending my own.
If going out involves getting food, we’ll need to discuss my very complicated and kind of restrictive diet. Just bringing that up in advance.
See Also:
Guides on how to go on dates that I approve of (for giving good advice on how to go out with me) are this Reddit post, this article from The Art of Charm, these two WikiHow pieces (Article 1 & Article 2), and this guide from Instructables. Rescripting Sex by Cliff Pervocracy is also relevant.
My OkCupid dating profile and match questions, and my face and voice.
My Tumblr profile, my description of how to message me online, my post asking to meet up with people in the Bay, and my general social skills advice.
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