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Valentine’s Day Confessions of a Sex and Relationships Writer

Valentine’s Day Confessions of a Sex and Relationships Writer: Sean Noyce

Sean Noyce

Dear Reader,

Ready or not—like it or not—it’s Valentine’s Day. All week I’ve been wracking my brain for what to give you. What original, clever angle can I bring to this holiday that hasn’t been done? I wanted to be snarky yet cheeky, sexy yet wholesome, single yet approachable, shocking yet composed and flirty yet coy.

That’s when it hit me. We’ve been “seeing each other” for 10 columns now, and you still have no idea who I am.

I mean, you know some things about me—you know I love blowjobs, adult films and getting naked online and that I hate pussies (metaphorical not actual), bad dating profiles and sometimes, at 2:14 AM, when shit gets real, myself. On the surface, these things seem pretty intimate. But, like a dating profile, this carefully crafted image is designed to show you my best persona and keep you at arm’s length.

You don’t know what qualifies me to talk about sex or relationships. You don’t know my history. Based on my words, you might think that I’m fearless, but really I’m terrified of intimacy. That shit is locked up tight with the fears and the insecurities and the crushing disappointment. You don’t know my struggles or my weakness.

You don’t know my heart. So this Valentine’s Day, I’m giving it to you.

I’m afraid to show you my heart because I’m afraid you won’t like me. Maybe Millennials don’t have the attention span for intimacy—although to be honest, I’m not sure I even do. Sure, it’s easy to hide behind profile pics and being perpetually “busy” in order to guard my heart in real life, but I don’t have the option of guarding my heart in my writing. This is where I should be the most vulnerable, and I’m doing you and myself a disservice if I offer you anything less. If this relationship is going to work, I’m going to need to be honest.

First of all, I confess, I’ve slept with a lot of men. And women. I haven’t always (usually?) chosen wisely. Everyone from Australian trust fund babies to famous dudes I can’t name, to townie assholes with nothing to offer but a big dick.

At 19 I had my Sid and Nancy days. I nodded out in my eggs at Mel’s Diner. I walked down Sunset Boulevard in the rain, heartbroken and crying after catching my then boyfriend kissing another woman at a movie screening. High on coke and heroin, I locked myself in the Best Western on Sunset, did all of the blow and fake threatened to kill myself for attention. I was in treatment a week later for seven months. It took me a couple of weeks to kick the smack but YEARS to wean myself off my toxic addiction to that dysfunctional relationship.

At 23 I married a Russian busboy in what was essentially a yearlong blackout. I became a professional waitress/alcoholic, escaped the monotony and long winters by burying my face in mountains of cocaine and gave up on all of my dreams and myself. Luckily when I crawled out from under that particular rock bottom I didn’t have any kids.

At 27 I found yoga, my way out of the marriage and myself again. We’ve been divorced for 10 years and only last week when I found myself in tears watching Her did the sadness and grief of that failed relationship finally hit me.

I’ve been single ever since. I’ve fallen in love with billionaires and farmers and comics and actors and hedge fund dudes and writers and musicians and waiters and married dudes and good guys who wanted to give me the world and, most importantly, their heart. I’ve run away from them all. I’ve had threesomes in Sri Lanka. I was the second wife in an open marriage for a hot minute. I’ve made out with women for attention, and I’ve been with women for real.

BumbleDatingProfile-1x1

Oh, Bumble.

Now I find myself still single and on Bumble, which, hilarious as it can be, is also be super fucking depressing. My good friend and yoga client is married with three kids, and she was swiping left with me the other day and exclaimed: “These are your options? This is what’s out there for you??? This is making me want to kill myself!!!”

Dating at any age is never easy. Relationships at any stage are difficult. This became even more obvious to me when, bored and disillusioned with Bumble, I recently discovered my newest dating app obsession, 3nder, which is basically Tinder for couples looking for a threesome, because two people in a relationship isn’t sufficiently complicated. And apparently, I’m a “unicorn”? (I don’t know enough to write about it. Yet. But don’t worry—I’m in the process of interviewing couples. Smiley face. Wink.)

Honestly, I have no idea what the fuck I want. Sometimes I think I want to be in something serious, and sometimes I think monogamy is dead. A part of me still wants to believe in the idea of a “beloved,” and yet a part of me challenges that belief at every step.

…I know I love you because if your eyes are reading this then you’re another soldier in the trenches of life with me.

So, reader, before we continue our open relationship, exploring the wild world of polyamory, threesomes and kinky sex, I need you to know who I am, and this is it—take it or leave it. I’m a bumbling idiot who doesn’t know shit. Fumbling around in the dark. Just like you.

I know two things: I know I love writing, and I know I love you because if your eyes are reading this then you’re another soldier in the trenches of life with me. You’re another warrior on the path. It doesn’t matter if you’re male or female, single or happily married, unhappily married or newly in love, recently heartbroken or single4eva, whatever stage of life you find yourself in, we’re all in the shit together. We might not always agree. We might drive each other crazy. But I’ll do my best to always respect you. I honor your choices, your mistakes and your struggle. I bow my head to our fragile humanity and our wounded hearts.

So, with that, Happy Valentine’s Day, or FUCK Valentine’s Day, whichever suits you this year—I can get onboard with both—and if you’re lonely, don’t worry, so am I.

Will you be my Valentine?

Love,
Bridge


Bridget Phetasy is a writer and comic in Los Angeles. Twitter: @BridgetPhetasy.

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