BY VANCE EDWARDS-ORR

America is obsessed with
sex. More beautiful people
on TV. More lollipops.
More Viagra. More weight
loss. More hair products.
More eating disorders.
More shoes. More cleav-
age. More Britney. The fact
that we all walk, talk, and
fuck the same is no more a
secret than the fact that the
cigarettes we suck while
doing all these things are
going to kill us. Any eight
year-old can tell you that.

Vaginas are really cool,
and in the right hands, quite
attractive. It bothers me
that so many women (let’s
not even talk about gay
men) find them hideous.
Perhaps it’s because most
people don’t spend the time
to really get to know a vagi-
na. How many ofyou could
identify the vestibule or the
prepuce? Few know much
about it, but everyone seems
to have an opinion on the
subject. In this respect, the
vagina is much like sexuali-
ty in general.

The other night I was
walking home and ran into a
clique of women that I had
known through school.
With a squeal, their leader
pounced on me and tried to
break my ribs. Before I
even had a chance to make
pleasantries, a second post-
adolescent straight female
intruded and demanded to
know why I hadn’t hugged

- her first. My sweet tooth

for sarcasm kicked in (I
couldn’t resist) and said,
“Well, honey, that’s because
I don’t like you anymore.”
Apparently, that is where I
made an instantaneous shift
from being the most excit-
ing thing since latex to
being the most colossal ass-
hole that had ever tread this
planet. I briefly tried to
defend myself in the ensu-
ing drama, but gave up as
soon as it became clear that
they were serious.

A situation disturbingly
similar occurred when I
failed to notice more
straight female friends at a
diner. One of them
approached my table to dis-
cuss how upset another had
become that I was “dissing”
them.

What is causing my per-
ceptibly innocent actions to
be received with such pejo-
rative inference? One pos-
sible explanation is that I
am simply an asshole. Or

perhaps there is a certain
way I am supposed to
behave around women.

Aaron, a guy I met this
summer, recently came to
visit me for a week. During
that time I introduced him
to all my friends, the vast
majority of whom are
attractive straight women.
He couldn’t handle it. I
received complaints about
him from a significant
majority of women to
whom Aaron was intro-
duced. On two separate
occasions, he was told,
“Don’t touch me.”

It seems that he had
never really had female
friends. Aaron was unable
to wrap his mind around the
concept that I had all these
women “at my disposal”, as
he put it, and wasn’t fucking
them. I was striking out left
and right. I couldn’t seem
to act out any behavioral
expectation for a 22-year
old male.

When I was a sophomore
in college, I really wanted to
be gay. Being gay was cool.
Forget cargo pants, homo-
sexuality was the hottest
accessory those days. If
you don’t got the gay, you
don’t got shit. This desire
for the desire for males was
convenient for me, only
because everyone thought I
was gay. Eventually after
much drama and panic and
angst and exploration I
came out straight. The
crowd roared. Money
exchanged hands.

The acceptance of my
sexuality has done nothing
but empower me. Though
not as much, it is still com-
mon to be pegged for being
gay. I wonder how much of
this misinterpretation comes
from‘ people’s reaction to
my sexual confidence, a
trait that, to one extent or
another, nearly all gay peo-
ple who are out possess.

Perhaps the reason I have
so many straight female
friends is that, when they
meet me, they file me in the
“gay” box. Even after being
straightened out, their first
impression is still thatl am
gay. There will forever be a

 

   

       

triangle stamped some-
where on the';.Vance folder
in their beautiful heads.

At one time or another
too, I have had crushes on
all my female friends. For
some reason,;.I never felt
any of my friendships were
structured for mobility. It
would almost seem like I
had the social structure of a
gay man.

I seem to accumulate
people who, for the most
part, possess the same sexu-
al certainty as I. The result-
ing atmosphere is high ener-
gy that leads to “situations”
and drama. Over the course
of my adult friendships, I
have had some amplitude of
loin-led drama with nearly
all female friends, and many
male as well.

I seem to be leading a
sexually charged lifestyle.
Not that I’m actually having
much sex, but it affects
nearly all of my relation-
ships. I realize a significant
part of this behavior is sim-
ply a function of my age and
species, and whether we
like it or not, the Gay-Bi-
Straight junta has been
deposed. A

For me, the ideal rela-
tionship is one where both‘
partners actively want to be
vulnerable. This requires a
significant dose of confi-
dence and conviction. Self-
confidence comes from
self—knowledge and self-
love, plus a few other
hyphenated terms.

It’s hard to love yourself
when you have love han-
dles. Or at least it’s sup-
posed to be hard. Although
_if I listened to the media, it
would be completely
impossible to love myself
with my love handles.

It takes a certain strength
of character to uncondition-
ally love yourself. The
same conviction it takes to
turn down an invitation to
dinner without offering an
explanation. In fact, this
utopian sensation is the
same thing that, if held-
close to your heart, can help
you own yourself.

  

 
 
 

L'-
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